


You Will Be Happy

by 7ate9



Series: You Will Be You [2]
Category: Love Victor (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BACK AT IT AGAIN, Colors, Family, Feels, First Time, Happy Ending, Healing, I don't know how basketball works I tried my best, I swear, Like, Love, M/M, Minor OC - Freeform, Nightmares, PTSD, PTSD attacks, Refusing Help, Sequel, Sexual Tension, Some Fluff, Triggers, Venji - Freeform, Very long, Victor Salazar is a rainbow, Victor it's ok, Victor needs a hug, Violence, You Will Be Healed, a supreme lack of fluff, all the colors of the love, angst angst and more angst, but its happy at the end, cant forget sexual tension, good friend andrew, heres me, it's just sad, it's there a bit, ok maybe not a supreme lack of fluff, so long, sometimes, this is love right here, this show doesn't have enough adult characters with undefined jobs :(, with this stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 42
Words: 90,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7ate9/pseuds/7ate9
Summary: So maybe Victor was trying to find his way back to normalcy. And maybe he was trying to navigate a new relationship while also trying to navigate his life. And maybe his father was still out and about, and maybe it still scared the living shit out of him. And maybe Victor's sleep was riddled with nightmares every night. And maybe he kept having panics where he thought his dad was there. And maybe, just maybe, he was terrified of living his new life, out and proud.It was fine. It was totally fine.A continuation of You Will Be Healed!
Relationships: Benjamin "Benji" Campbell/Victor Salazar, Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier, Lake Meriwether/Felix Weston, Mia Brooks/Andrew Spencer
Series: You Will Be You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837186
Comments: 874
Kudos: 273





	1. Where Do We Go From Here?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! New work! If you found this, great! You might wanna read You Will Be Healed, the first work of the series, lest you be very confused. To everyone else, thank you everyone for coming back for part 2! As some of you know, it was not planned to be a 2-parter (let's pray I'm not wordy enough to make it three!), but here it is! This was originally posted on the first work, and some of you read it, so if it looked familiar that is why!
> 
> Thank you everyone so much for your support!!

Benji was in front of him, hands clenched into fists, face one of anger. Victor tried so desperately to find even an infinitesimal shred of the love he knew had to be there; he only saw rage. He was spattered in blood with a rip in his white shirt. Red was soaking through the hole, and there was a large wound there in his stomach, something big and ugly and irreparable. Victor was nauseous looking at him. 

He knew something was behind him, something angry and dangerous. And if he turned around, it’d kill him. 

“Benji,” Victor said softly, trying to placate him. “What is it?”

Benji tightened his fists, his right hand around a pole. Had that always been there? 

“You’re a disgrace,” Benji spat, his voice cold and menacing. “You’re disgusting. _Poison_.”

Victor whimpered. “Benji, please—“

“ _Shut up you fag!_ ” He shouted. “ _You don’t deserve to live_!”

“Benji—“

Benji roared, something loud and inhumane, and he charged forward, hitting Victor over the head with the baseball bat (hadn’t it been a pole?) and knocking him to the ground.

He couldn’t see Benji anymore, but he very well felt him beating him to a bloody pulp. He howled out in pain, begging him to stop, pleading for forgiveness.

Victor woke slowly, his body aching, as he slowly came to understand that this was a dream, Benji was at his own home, and nobody was hurting either one of them. He dared not open his eyes, terrified that someone was above him, waiting for him to see they were there before killing him. He lay perfectly still, forcing his breaths to even out so the person would be tricked into believing he was still asleep. 

_No one is there_ , the rational part of his brain told him. _Open your eyes. No one is there._

He couldn’t bring himself to do it for so long. God knew how long he stayed like that, muscles aching with the energy it took to hold himself so still, his whole body screaming its discomfort, begging him to adjust, but then Armando would know he was awake, and he’d kill him for sure. 

_No one is there_ , his brain screamed. _Open your eyes._

He never made the decision, but his eyes flew open on their own. Victor’s life flashed before his eyes--his family, his school work, basketball, Felix, Simon, Benjii--before he saw and recognized that nobody was actually there. He was alone in his room. 

He picked up the phone to check the time; 2:47 a.m.

Victor groaned. What was he supposed to do now?

He rolled over and saw the walkie-talkie Felix had given him so long ago. Would Felix be awake right now? Was it right to wake him if he wasn’t? 

He wished he had Benji with him, and he wished he had Felix and Simon with him. He wished he had Bram and Mia with him. He wished he weren’t alone. 

With a sigh, he picked up the walkie-talked and pressed down on the button. Then, he released and tossed it aside, falling back onto his bed. 

It was fine. He’d just go to sleep. 

He shut his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Armando above him, his face twisted with anger.

It’d be a damn miracle if Victor got to sleep at all that night. 

***

When Victor woke up the next morning, someone was at the front door, doing something with the doorknobs. Victor immediately thought of the broken window in his room and how damaged he’d be if he jumped, but he shoved that thought down. His mother was there in the kitchen, her eyes bright. 

“Hey, Victor!” She said, sipping a cup of coffee. “How’d you sleep?”

 _Not great_ , he thought of saying, but why tell the truth when a lie is so much easier? “Fine,” He told her instead, refusing to take his eyes off the man at the door. He could turn around any minute and hit Victor upside the head with a loose doorknob if he really wanted… 

“Oh, Victor, he’s fine,” His mother said gently. “He’s changing the locks on the doors so that man can’t get in.” She’d resorted to calling him by anything except his name; no one liked hearing it. “I’m also gonna head over to your school on Monday and talk to them about what we can do to make sure he won’t get on campus.”

Victor did his best to look away from the locksmith, despite how uneasy it made him. “Good. That’s… that’s good.”

She nodded and took another sip of her coffee before saying, “So, how was your date last night? Your guys’ first one, right?”

“Uh huh,” Victor answered, trying to ignore the locksmith’s presence. He grabbed a bowl and a random box of cereal. “We went to Kettlewick. It was really nice.”

Isabel seemed taken aback by that. “Wait, in the evening you two went to a cafe even though you both work… at a cafe?”

Victor laughed with her, the knot in his chest easing. “Yeah, I was confused too when he said it, but we had a really good time. A family friend owned the place, and it means a lot to him. It’s really quaint and pretty.”

“Good,” She said, beaming. “I’m happy for you.”

Victor poured milk into what he saw were Frosted Flakes just as Pilar came into the kitchen complaining about Adrian taking too long in the bathroom. 

He never thought he’d love the sounds of Pilar complaining as much as he did. 

They ate breakfast around the counter while the locksmith finished up. He handed Isabel three keys, then took his things and headed off. Victor could breathe easily again. 

Isabel handed Victor a key to keep safe, put one on her key ring, then asked for suggestions on what to do with the spare. Pilar offered to give it to her and she’d hold onto it; that suggestion was shot down rather quickly. 

By the end, they decided next time Felix was over they’d see if he wanted to keep it for them and use it for emergencies and bring it down if he was home and they called. Victor was sure he’d be honored.

“Okay,” Isabel said as they all gathered around on the couch. “So, here’s the thing. Ar-- he and I are getting a divorce.”

No one moved, though surprise was not what was holding them there. A whole new weight sat on Victor’s shoulders. He was responsible for breaking his family apart. 

“Now, I’m going to advocate for full custody, and we can find ways to make sure that happens. As for the rest, the things, the apartment, the money… we’ll see. This is a long process. It’ll be hard on all of us, money will be tight, but it’s what’s best.

“Right now, he’s living in an apartment a little bit away, and soon he will be coming over to pack up his clothes and things and take them with him. I’m not sure when that will be, but I will try my best to make sure you are all out of the house when he comes. Okay?”

Everyone nodded, mum. This, Victor thought, would be a whole new kind of exhausting. He was responsible for this divorce happening, and he was responsible for their family being so strained, and he was just… he shouldn’t have come home. Everyone would be better off if he never came home. 

“Okay,” Isabel said, she pressed her hands to her thighs, and sighed. “Pilar, you and Adrian go to your room and watch some videos, okay? I wanna talk to Victor privately.”

Pilar looked like she wanted to argue, but, through everything, learned to keep quiet. Victor would have preferred her complaints over the memories of why she’d gone silent. 

Isabel waited until they were behind a closed door until she said, “How are you doing, mi amor?”

Victor looked at his mother. Here was a chance to tell her the truth, to let her in when she so desperately wanted to be, when she was so desperate to have her son back. She was so stressed, though, and it was because of Victor. It was all because of Victor. He had to lie. 

Just as he had this thought, Isabel held up her hand saying, “Ah! I don’t want anymore lies, Victor. Tell me the truth. Honestly. Do not tell me you’re fine, because I know you are not. How are you? What is going on?”

He swallowed hard. “Uh, well… honestly? It’s been hard.”

Her face softened immediately. “Tell me, mi amor.”

Victor took a deep breath, and told her the truth. “Well, I don’t really know everything yet. All I know is that… I have a lot of nightmares, Mom. Like, all the time. Every night. And it’s not always him. Sometimes it’s Abuelo. Sometimes it’s someone else. And, I really like Benji, but sometimes being with him I get so scared. Like, what if someone else hurts us? What if someone hits him? I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore. It’s terrifying.”

Isabel sighed. “You’ve been through a lot, my love. These types of things run deep.”

“I know.” Victor said. He ran a hand through his hair. “I just… I want to be normal. I want to be able to hold my boyfriend’s hand without worrying he’s going to die. I want him to be able to reach for my face without flinching. I want to be able to breathe in this room without feeling like something is squeezing my lungs.”

Isabel looked remorseful. “Why didn’t you tell me, Victor? I can help you.”

“I know. I just didn’t want you to worry. You’re already so stressed with the divorce and money and keeping him away, I didn’t want you to have to worry about me, too. You never used to worry about me. I hate that you do now.”

“Victor,” she cautiously took his hand in both of hers. “You are my son. You are not a third parent. You never were, and I never should have treated you like one. You deserve to have problems and difficulties. If you’re having nightmares, I want to know. If you’re so scared in here, I want to know. We can change the room. Hell, we can change _apartments_ if that would help. I love you so much, Victor. We can find a way to figure it all out. If you need therapy, we’ll get you therapy. If you need a new space, we’ll get you a new space. So much was taken from you, mi amor. I just want you to be happy.”

Victor stared at their hands together in her lap. “I know, Mom. I do, too.”

She held up a hand, then gently reached forward and brought his head forward so she could kiss his forehead. “I love you, Victor. I always have. I never stopped loving you. I need you to understand that.”

“I do,” He told her. And he did. It just took a lot more than some words to get through a skull as thick as his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also just curious does anyone else wake up from nightmares this way? Because no matter what the nightmare is I always wake up and for like 1/2 hr I'm just laying there thinking there is smth behind me and then I open my eyes and then it takes another 1/2 to roll over and see nothing is there. Anyone else or am I just really weird?


	2. Chicken Soup for the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward family dinner :)))

“Pilar! We are  _ going _ to be  _ late _ !”

“I don’t want to go!”

“You don’t have a choice!”

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes, Adrian, that shirt is wrinkled, go put on something else.”

Victor sat at the counter, watching the chaos that ensued when a family of four had somewhere to go and an impression to make. 

The Spier family invited the Salazars over for dinner. And if there was anything in Victor that was saying this would go well, he was  _ lying _ . 

“You know, we don’t have to go,” Victor reminded his mom. She silenced him with a look that said,  _ don’t do this _ . He cowered under her stare. 

Isabel was wearing a skirt and a nice blouse to make a decent impression on the Spiers. Victor knew she was terrified of meeting the family and having them call her on abandoning him. No matter how many times he tied to convince her they’d never do that, she still had her fears. Victor wished there was some way to placate her, but eventually had to give up. His energy was so precious nowadays, he couldn’t waste it on something as immovable as this. 

Adrian finally surfaced from his bedroom wearing his nicest jeans and a red button down. His collar was sticking up on one side, and Victor couldn’t help but chuckle. Isabel frantically tried to fix it, but it still came out crooked. She gave up and sent him to make sure he didn’t need to use the bathroom. Then, she went to Pilar’s room and slammed on the door and told her to  _ get the hell out of there, let’s go, Pilar! _ Victor sat, silent, watching her pick up a tres leches cake she’d ordered from the bakery down the street. Victor thought of Jeff, suddenly, and of the story he’d told him as he cleaned his wounds. He wondered if Jeff ever thought about him, ever worried about him. He figured he should pay him a visit, thank him for everything he did for him and tell him he was okay. 

After another five minutes, Pilar was still holed up in her room, and Isabel was increasingly frantic, so Victor took it upon himself to get Pilar out of her room and ready to go. 

“Pilar,” he called with a gentle knock on the door. “Pilar, can I come in?”

A small sniff sounded from her room, and she called a soft, “Yeah.”

He tentatively opened the door and found her sitting on her bed, makeup still undone, eyes red and face wet. His heart ached at the sight. He closed the door behind him until he heard a soft click, then sat down on her bed. “Hey, Pilar. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” She said nonchalantly. She sniffed again, negating what she’d said. “I just don’t want to go.”

Victor tilted his head and regarded her. “Why? I think you’d like meeting them. Emily’s really sweet, and Nora’s awesome, and—“

“And your replacement family can shame us in person?” Pilar said, new tears welling in her eyes. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Oh no. “Pilar—“

“You think I don't know that abandoning you was wrong? I didn’t have any other choice!”

“I know that, Pilar, and they do, too.”

“I just wanted you to be my brother! I just wanted to have a family again,” she cried. “But we left you and you found a new family with new parents and a new sister, and—“

“ _ Pilar! _ ” Victor interrupted. “I could never replace you guys. You and Adrian and Mom are my family, first and foremost, always. Emily and Jack and Nora are my family, too, but they could never replace you. You’ll always be my sister. You’ll always be my best sister.”

Pilar rubbed her nose. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” he scooted close to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She lay her head on his shoulder, breathing deeply. “I understand why you did what you did, Pilar. And they do, too. It was a tricky situation. There’s no right answer. There’s no right way to do these things. You had to keep yourself safe, and you had to keep Adrian safe, and you had to keep Mom safe, and you had to keep me safe. I could never fault you for that. The Spiers will just be so happy that you all are safe and you’ve taken me back.”

Pilar nodded. “Okay. I’ll get ready.”

“Good.” Victor gave her a tight hug and a kiss on the head (she rolled her eyes but otherwise didn’t complain) then went out to his mother. She was fixing Adrian’s shirt. 

“Well, how’d it go?” She asked. 

Victor shrugged. “Really good. She’s getting ready now.”

Isabel sighed and her shoulders eased a little. “Oh, thank goodness.”

It took another couple of minutes before Pilar came out, presentable. “Let’s go,” she said, and everyone piled into the car.

***

“Victor!” Emily shouted excitedly, pulling him into a tight hug. “I’m so happy to see you!”

Victor hugged her back, squeezing her as tight as he could. “I’m happy to be here.”

She pulled back, eyes bright, and inspected his face while cupping his jaw. She stroked the scarring cut on his cheek. “You’re healing well.”

He nodded. “Yeah, thanks to you and Jeff.”

Her eyes crinkled with her smile and she kissed his forehead. “Come on in,” she waved them all inside, ecstatic. “Dinner is almost ready.”

Victor watched as Isabel and Emily met. Pilar was holding the tres leches cake, and Isabel glanced at it almost like she wished she’d been holding it instead. 

Emily held a hand out, an inviting smile on her face. “Hi, I’m Emily Spier. Victor stayed with me for a couple days.”

Isabel eased her hand into Emily’s, her expression guarded. “He told us.”

Emily glanced at them all, uneasy. “Alright! Well, we can head into the kitchen. My daughter is almost finished with dinner, she insisted on making it tonight. I have a backup just in case.”

Isabel raised her brows. “Wow, your daughter cooks?”

Emily shrugged, trying to conceal her pride as she led everyone to the kitchen. “Well, she does sometimes. She especially loves baking, and she loves making stuff in the crockpot. I’m not really sure where she got it from. None of us ever were really cooks.” She chuckled softly and glanced at Pilar. “Oh, is that for us?”

Pilar nodded and held the cake to her. “It’s a tres leches cake. We like them a lot.”

Emily took it from her and placed it gingerly on the counter. “Thank you so much. Does it need to be refrigerated?”

Isabel nodded, her mouth tight. “Yeah, it’s best cold.”

Emily dutifully made room in the fridge, and everyone stood around awkwardly waiting for something to happen. 

Nora stalked into the room, her eyes lighting up when she saw them. “Victor!”

She embraced him, and he held her tight. With one quick glance at Pilar, he saw a storm in her eyes, and he let go. He wasn’t really sure how to do this now. Did he take a side? Did he play mediator the whole night?

“Where’s Jack,” he asked instead. He wasn’t sure how his family was going to react to a father figure so soon, which he maybe should have thought about earlier, but he was here, and he would’ve liked to see him.

“Oh, he’s talking to Simon,” She told him. “He called because Bram said something and pissed him off, and he wants some advice, I guess.”

“They’ll work it out,” Emily said, resurfacing from the fridge. “It’s just some small fight about… I don’t even know.”

Victor nodded with them just as Jack popped in, saying a quick “I love you” before hanging up. 

“Hey,” he said excitedly as he glanced around the room, “sorry about that. My son’s up at NYU, gotta talk to him as much as I can.”

Isabel nodded, lips pursed, eyes distant. 

“Right,” Victor said, “so, everyone,” he addressed his family, “This is Jack, Nora, and Emily,” then turned to the Spiers, “And this is my mom Isabel, Pilar, and Adrian.” 

Everyone said a quick hi back and forth, then fell silent. Victor didn’t know how to continue from here. 

“So, Nora, what’s for dinner?”

Her eyes lit up. “Chicken cacciatore. It’s really good, and I found a new recipe to try.”

Victor smiled. “I’m excited.”

Isabel cut in, “So you cook?”

Nora nodded. “Yeah, I always had an interest in it and I just sorta got into it. Now my family is forced to be a taste tester.”

“Simon told me about that,” Victor said with a laugh. “He said sometimes it sucked.”

“And it really did,” Jack confirmed. “He was always really good about not even spitting out the bad food.”

Nora shrugged. “I never thought it was that bad.”

“I refuse to believe Nora made anything bad ever in her life,” Victor said with a cheeky smile. 

Jack let out a huge guffaw and clapped him on the shoulder. “Keep coming around, you’ll change your mind.”

Emily swatted Jack in the chest as the oven beeped. Jack set the table as Emily pulled Victor aside and asked, “How are you doing, honey?”

Victor contemplated the question. How was he doing? “Well, I think I’m doing good. Getting better, I guess.”

Emily nodded, taking this in. “Any nightmares?”

Victor’s body heated and he needed to leave.  _ Why would she ask that? _ “N-no, why?”

Emily looked skeptical. “You went through something traumatic. I jut want to make sure the lasting effects won’t be too…” she shook her head. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s go beat, okay?”

Victor nodded and she led him to the table. He sat between his mother and Adrian. 

The chicken looked fantastic. It was entire thighs and legs still not cut apart from each other covered in tomato sauce and onions and peppers, lying carefully on a bed of white rice. Victor’s stomach growled at the sight. He’d not yet managed to ever feel full since that cursed night. 

Emily took her seat by Jack, who sat at the head. “Do you guys want to say grace?”

Isabel seemed taken aback. “Do you?”

“Well, we don’t usually, but Victor wanted to when he was here, and I know you all normally say grace, so why not?” Emily gave a small, welcome smile to the Salazars, but Isabel was not having it. 

“‘You all’?” She asked, leaning back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Emily’s shoulders rose with growing tension. “Nothing, I just meant you as a family.”

“And what about my family?” Isabel shot back. “We may not be perfect like yours, but—“

“ _ Mom _ .” Victor stressed. Isabel looked remorseful. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry. I’m being rude.” She shook her head, then opened her eyes and looked at Emily, finally clear of anger. “We’d like to say grace.”

“I’ll do it,” Victor jumped in. His mom nodded, and everyone joined hands. Victor watched as Pilar tentatively took Nora’s hand. 

He took a deep breath. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for this meal Nora has prepared for us with Your guiding hands. Thank You for bringing us together tonight, and for keeping us safe and sound. Thank You, Father, for my family, the Salazars  _ and _ the Spiers. Please give us the strength and guidance to grow together and love one another the way we’re meant to. 

“Father, thank You for my mother, Isabel. Thank You for giving her the ability to love me and accept me as I am. Thank You for giving her the strength to rise about Armando—“ it was the first time anyone had said his name aloud. It felt powerful to say it. He went on, “—and welcoming me back. Please bless each and every one of us as we move forward without him. 

“Thank You, most of all, for bringing these people into my life. Thank You for gifting me with the best two families in the world. Thank You for each person sitting around this table, and thank You for the meal we are about to eat. 

“In Jesus’ name, amen.”

Isabel took a steadying breath and rubbed his shoulder. “That was beautiful, mi amor. Thank you.”

Victor smiled. “You’re welcome.” He turned to everyone. “Now, can we please stop fighting? We’re here for one reason: I love you all. And you all love me, too. Everyone here is my family. Okay?”

Isabel nodded. “Okay, mijo. I’m sorry. I just…”

Pilar jumped in, “It’s just hard. It hurts knowing you replaced us.”

“Nobody is replacing anybody,” Victor told them. 

“You’re right,” Isabel agreed, “I just hate the fact that we couldn’t be the ones here for you.”

“Isabel, if I may,” Emily cut in, “we love Victor like our son. That’s why he’s here, and that’s why you’re here; he’s our family, too. And he deserves the family he wants, and that’s all of us. You were in danger, and so was Victor. That’s not anyone’s fault except one person’s: Armando’s. We all love Victor, and no one thinks less of you for the sacrifices you had to make.” She sat forward earnest, “Mother to mother, I understand. I understand the pain of losing your son. Maybe not the way you do, but I can empathize, and I hope you never have to go through that again. We’re all happy that Victor is safe now, and that you’re all safe now. That’s all we want for you all.”

Isabel nodded again. “I know. Thank you.” She looked around at the table. “This looks delicious, Nora. I hope it hasn’t gone cold.”

Nora shook her head, smiling softly at Victor’s mother. “No, it’ll be perfect.”

“Alright!” Emily clapped her hands together. “Let’s dig in.”

Victor’s heart felt full as he sat with his family of seven, pink and blue merging like two rivers, riding through his veins for all time. He was finally at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sad more ppl didn't comment on the last chapter did! I! Mention! I! Like! Attention!!! :))))))


	3. It's the End Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really excited for you guys to read this one :)))
> 
> I miss Vengi_Enthusiast wherever they are, I hope they're doing ok and they know they own my heart and I appreciate them endlessly

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and balls bouncing on the court made Victor feel better than he had in weeks. Coach, upon hearing what had happened with Victor’s family, reluctantly offered Victor the week before break off from practice and the game. Victor happily took the chance. But now, he was back at home, and he was finally able to get in the mindset of a person again, let alone an athlete. 

He purposefully arrived late; he didn’t want anyone cornering him in the locker rooms or getting weird about a gay guy being in the room while they changed. As much as he felt accepted as a friend by his team, being accepted as a gay guy was a whole different topic he really didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with. 

A few guys turned their heads as they practiced once they heard the door open. No one stopped what they were doing. Victor had figured there was going to be some second initiation to be re-accepted back to the team’s good graces. He had, after all, abandoned them for almost a month, mentally and physically. Maybe it’d come later. 

Coach called him out on being late, but otherwise no one said anything, and he fell in line with all the others. They were quickly split into two opposing teams and sent to play.

Victor hadn’t felt this much in his element since he was at pride. The ball was passed between players like a well-oiled machine, baskets made by both sides with each second that passed. Victor’s team kept scoring; he was, for once, so proud to be on this team. 

Andrew, who was point-guard for the opposing team, seemed particularly mad at Victor today. He covered him at every second he was able to, and elbowed him at least twice, which was fine, it was the game. But the glare on his face was new to Victor, something so sinister and severe that the third time he slammed his body into his, he did it with such a snarl and a force that Victor fell to the ground. Coach whistled and called a foul, and Victor stayed on the floor, confused. The lights were blinding him. Where was he? Where was his father? Hadn’t he just been above him, beating the living daylights out of him? Did he decide he was done? 

Victor blinked a few times, lost. 

“ _ Salazar! _ ” Coach called, sounding like it was the tenth time. Hell, it might have been. “Get off the ground!”

Victor shook his head, the fog in his mind clearing. Right. He was in basketball practice. His dad was gone. He was gone. He wasn’t ever there. Victor was body-checked. That was a foul. Basketball was a no-contact sport. No one was going to hit him here. 

Without another word, Victor picked himself off the ground and made his way to the Coach. It had been a foul, so Victor’s team got possession of the ball. 

The game resumed, and Victor got back in the game headspace. This was right; this was normal. Andrew was on him, and eventually, he got the ball from Victor’s hands, passing it to his own teammate. 

“What,” someone on Andrew’s team called, “come on, Salazar, even a queer like you can do better!”

Victor bristled, but shook it off. They were just trying to get to him; it was fine, he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. 

Victor’s team got the ball back quickly, sinking it into the basket. 

“No help from the fag,” Someone on the opposing team remarked, earning laughter from everyone. Victor did his best to ignore it. They were just bitter; their team was down by twelve points. 

The round finished out with Victor’s team in the lead. They got back in starting positions, Andrew and Victor face to face at the front, waiting for Coach to come over with the ball. 

“Hey, man,” Victor whispered to Andrew, “can you call off your side a little? They’re being kinda rude.”

Andrew smirked. “Yeah, right, Salazar, we’ll just stop and braid each other’s hair and talk about boys, too, while we’re at it.”

Victor sighed heavily, rolling his eyes, and Coach came back with the ball. “Alright,” He shouted, then threw it in the air. 

Victor immediately jumped up and smacked the ball toward his team, running forward with everyone else. Andrew covered him the whole time. 

“You know, Salazar,” He said while shuffling with him, “if you were less of a pussy maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much. But, you are so, oh, well.”

Victor clenched his jaw and, in one quick move and no upper brain thought at all, slammed his shoulder into Andrew’s and knocked him to the ground. He hit the floor with a smack and a shout of surprise, and everyone stopped and stared. Victor didn’t care. He was tired of always being on the receiving end of someone’s anger. His whole goddamn life was ruined because of it. No way was Victor letting goddamn Andrew Spencer take anymore of his normalcy away.

“You know fucking what, Andrew? You can go fuck yourself!” He shouted. Andrew lay on the floor, staring up at him in shock. Victor moved to walk away, but fuck it, he was angry and no one seemed to understand that. “And not just you!” He looked out at the rest of the team and added, “All of you! You think I  _ like _ this? You think I woke up one day and decided I was gay? You think I  _ wanted _ to be gay? Do you honestly think I would be straight, and look at someone like Mia Brooks and decide I was just gonna go for dudes instead? Do you think that I looked at the world, looked at my shit family, and this  _ fucking team _ and decided it was a good idea to be queer?” He was really shouting now, so loud his throat hurt and his head hurt and he was just so full of anger he never realized he had. How long had he been angry? Had he always been? “ _ Do you think this shit’s easy? Do you think I saw the way you all treated Benji and decided I wanted that, too? Huh? _ ” He looked around at his team, sheepishly standing around. “Do you wanna know what being gay got me? It got me almost losing some of the best people I’ve ever fucking met, and it got me beaten up and kicked out of my own damn house and living on the street for  _ days _ until someone found out! It got me beaten within a goddamn inch of my life! My own fucking  _ dad _ wanted to kill me! He damn well tried! All I got were scars and trauma, and you think I chose that? Do you think this is a fucking laughing matter? Do you think, with the way you treat people, that anyone would choose to be gay?” Everything in his body was screaming with him. He wasn’t talking to his team now; he was talking to the room and the earth and the skies and the heavens and whatever creator might have been up there, begging them to turn back the clock and make all his pain disappear. “Do you think I’d be alive right now if I had the choice? Do you think I wouldn’t rather be dead?  _ Do you? _ ”

Everyone was still as rocks. No one dared look at him, or look at each other. Victor was lost on them; the meaning was lost on them.

He spoke in a normal tone and said simply, “If I killed myself like I wanted to today, I have a feeling come this time tomorrow the only thing you’ll ever call me again is a ‘faggot.’” 

He looked at each and every one of them, caught in the silence, caught in the ringing echo of the last word bouncing off the linoleum floors and walls and bleachers, dulling the shine of the room and the brightness of the lights. He was suffocating with it, something almost as painful as his father choking him on the sidewalk.

He shook his head. Nothing would change their minds. He could be dead in a fucking river with the word “faggot” carved into his right arm and they’d still be calling each other “cocksuckers” in the locker rooms and making gay jokes like their lives depended on it. Nothing would ever change their minds. 

The only thing Victor could hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears was the echo of his shoes chasing him as he stalked out of the gymnasium.

***

**Wtf did you do this time Victor?** Benji texted him before second period started. Victor stared down at his phone, confusion and anxiety clear on his face as he reread the text, then checked what he could have possibly been replying to. The last thing either of them said to each other was  **have a good day** with a heart emoji. That was per usual. What  _ had _ Victor done this time?

“Hey, fag,” Someone greeted him as he walked by Victor’s desk, slamming his hand heavily onto his desk to make him flinch so hard he hit his forehead on his phone, then laughing as he did.

Victor could barely open his eyes or register what had even happened before Andrew was next to them, standing very closely to whoever had done that. “Hey, Cory,” Andrew said, his voice low but menacing, “why’d you do that?”

The boy, Cory, opened his eyes wide with fear. “I just-- uh.”

“You just, uh, what?” Andrew said, taking a step closer to him. He had probably almost a foot on the poor kid, and he seemed to be making sure to remind Cory of each and every centimeter. Victor stared on, lost with confusion.

Cory was almost shaking with fear now. “I don’t, um-- uh--”

“You don’t know?” Andrew supplied. Cory shook his head, chuckling nervously, and Andrew laughed with him, too, though it was anything but humorous. “Well, I can tell you why. It was homophobic.”

Cory swallowed hard. 

“Do that again and you won’t have a hand, you understand me?”

Cory nodded, fear in his eyes. Andrew nodded once, calm, and gestured for him to go. Cory all but ran to his desk, trembling all over. 

Victor stared at Andrew, who turned to him, his expression laced with concern. “You okay?”

Somehow, Victor found it within himself to nod. 

Andrew did, too, studying him carefully. “Anyone gives you trouble, you let me or one of the guys know, alright? We’ll take care of it.”

All Victor could do was nod again, and Andrew went back to his seat. Victor swallowed heavily, rubbing a dull throbbing in his forehead as his phone buzzed with another text. 

**some guy was just giving me shit like a classic homophobe on a Tuesday morning and one of the guys on your team threatened them and told me to tell them if I had any problems??? wtf Victor what did you DO**

Victor reread the text message three times before finally texting back,  **I have no idea......**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))))) as you may know by now, comments are appreciated


	4. 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Outtake: after Victor leaves the gym, the basketball team does some soul-searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for it and I liked that idea so I'm doing it. @ that person: it made me happy, and I hope it makes you happy, too. uwu

**Outtake: post-walk out during practice**

Andrew watched Victor leave, his back still aching as he lay motionless on the ground. A certain type of feeling had come over him, one he’d never felt before, at least not as strongly as he felt it right then. 

Shame. He felt so very ashamed. 

He just kept staring at the door Victor had slammed through. Wasn’t Victor technically his friend? Didn’t they sit together everyday, laughing at the same jokes, understanding each other on the deepest level they could? Didn’t Andrew know exactly how much pain Victor was in everyday? Did he really honestly just go and do  _ that _ ?

“Well,” Coach said after some time had passed. “I have never, and I mean  _ never _ been so ashamed to be this school’s basketball coach.”

Andrew looked around at everyone across the court. None of them had moved either. Everyone stood there, feeling the weight of their own shame sitting heavy on their shoulders in the abandoned silence of Salazar’s outburst. Hadn’t they called him their friend three weeks ago? Were they all really so cruel?

No one reacted to Coach’s words. Andrew understood why. They were all ashamed to be on the team. 

This angered the Coach, it seemed, and he made his way slowly among each member, moving around them all like he was a lion stalking fourteen baby gazelles abandoned by their mother. Did that make Salazar their mother? 

Andrew snickered at the thought. Mama Salazar.

Coach didn’t like this at all, and he very slowly made his way to where Andrew was lying motionless on the floor. He stared at him standing directly over his head, fury written out clear as day on his face, but he didn’t say a word. He stood perfectly still, looking at Andrew like he was deciding where the best place was to stomp on him without killing him. Andrew’s pulse raced the long they stayed there, his fight or flight slowly kicking in. His body tensed, getting ready to fight off whatever Coach tried to throw at him.

But nothing happened. Coach walked away, his shoulders tight, and he pointed to a line on the floor. Everyone scrambled up to their feet and stood on the line, shoulder to shoulder. 

“I never,” Coach started, voice even, “ _ never _ thought a group of high schoolers could be so cruel to someone they called their friend.” He stalked up and down the line, like a drill sergeant about to scream some sense into some new Army recruits. 

And stared ahead at the floor with the rest of them. He wasn’t sure how this would end, but he was sure he’d hate it. Maybe some suicide drills. Fuck, they all hated those. Something to make them suffer, surely.

Coach continued, “Victor Salazar is your point guard. He is a part of your team.” He paused and shouted, “I’m not seeing a team here!” 

No one moved. They deserved this, Andrew supposed. It would be fine. 

“Sit down!” Coach screamed, immediately met by the sounds of everyone scrambling to sit on their asses. “You want to act like children you will damn well be treated like one!”

Everyone down the line sat with their legs in pretzel style, sitting up straight so Coach wouldn’t call them out. He began pacing up and down the line again, staring at each one of them with such fury and rage Andrew thought they might combust under his gaze.

“Victor Salazar went home the night of Spring Fling,” Coach told them, “and he came out to his parents. And you know what they did?”

_ They beat him _ , Andrew thought to himself. He knew this story. He lived through this story. Why was Coach telling them again?

“His dad hit him, and kicked him out, and threatened to kill him if he ever came back,” Coach told them. Well Andrew didn’t know that.

“Now, I want you all to imagine that. Imagine you love someone of the same sex--” snickers sounded from somewhere on the line, and it made Andrew’s stomach turn. 

Coach stopped in front of someone, Andrew couldn’t see who, and bent down to face level. “Is this funny to you?” He asked quietly. 

He was met with silence. 

“That’s what I thought.” Coach stood and resumed pacing, then stopped. “If I hear one more person laugh, you’re off the team. I don’t care who it is. You will be kicked off this fucking team.”

A stone dropped heavy in Andrew’s stomach. This was getting a little too serious. All they did was make some jokes. It wasn’t their fault that Salazar took it so seriously. 

“Imagine this.” Coach said. “Imagine you love someone, and your own father tries to kill you for it.”

No one laughed that time. 

“Imagine you tell your father about the girl you love, and he kills you for it. Not some Romeo and Juliet shit, but really, you just love someone. Someone good, someone nice. Someone your parents never met. And they try to kill you for it.”

Silence.

“Imagine you have to live on your own, and you have nowhere to go, so you sleep on the fucking streets. At sixteen years old, you’re not even old enough to rent an apartment or hotel room if you damn well wanted.” Coach stared at them all. “Imagine finding some semblance of happiness with your new life, and going out and taking a damn walk, and your father finds you and tries to kill you.”

Andrew felt a whole new type of sick. He did imagine. He imagined how scared Victor must have been the night of the Spring Fling, his cheek hurting and wherever the hell else his Dad decided to take a hit at. He imagined how content he was with Benji, the look on his face every time they held hands, and he imagined someone wanting to kill him for it. He imagined the amount of hate he must have had for himself as he sat in the storm Andrew remembered that night. 

“Imagine forgetting where you are. Imagine sometimes someone walks by, and they have a specific smell, or a way they walk, or do their hair, or there are just a thousand things piling up, and imagine forgetting who you are, where you are, when you are. Imagine never being able to move on.”

Andrew moved very slowly, tiny increments of movement so he could wipe away a tear that had fallen on his cheek. 

“Imagine being forced to move on, and trying your goddamn best, just to come back here, somewhere you’re supposed to feel safe and loved, somewhere you’re supposed to feel like you’re a part of a  _ team _ , just for them to show you they hate you, too.”

Some sniffles came from down the line. Andrew wiped at his nose. 

“You all disgust me.” Coach said. “Your friend almost died two weeks ago, and the only thing you can do is belittle him for having a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. How fucking dare you call yourselves a part of a team when you can’t even accept a brother as your own?”

No one moved. Everyone knew it; he was right. Victor was supposed to be their friend. He was supposed to be their teammate. He was supposed to be their brother. 

“You all make me sick.” His voice very well sounded like it. “Get the hell out of here. When I see you all tomorrow, I want to see you be human beings to another human being. Remember how grateful you are to not be in Victor’s place. Remember how grateful you are that he’s still fucking alive. Remember what he said. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him want to die.” 

Andrew’s heart sunk at the reminder. Right. Suicide.

Coach flicked a hand to the door, and they all stood, shuffling silently toward the locker rooms. Andrew wasn’t sure if he hoped Victor was still in the locker room, but he was disappointed and relieved all the same when he saw it was empty.

Everyone showered in silence, stood by their lockers and got changed under the oppressive quiet as they all mulled over Coach’s speech. No one dared say another word to each other. No one dared speak up and defy whatever the rest of the team might have been thinking. As Andrew got dressed, he got more frustrated. How could someone on the team not care? Salazar was the reason they’d won any games since January. He was, above that, their friend. He was a good person. He was almost murdered by his own fucking parent. And someone had the goddamn nerve to be indifferent?

“We have to be better,” Andrew spoke up. 

No one answered. He sighed and slammed his locker shut. “Guys, Coach was right. He’s our friend. And he’s been through a lot. It’s not fair to keep putting him through it.”

“What do you want us to do?” Someone asked. Andrew never cared enough to learn his name. “You want us to walk around wearing rainbows and start kissing dudes all over the place?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. For someone who wasn’t even relevant enough to have a goddamn name, he had a hell of a lot of nerve. “No, dumbass, I’m not saying be gay, I’m saying be a fucking person.” He sat down on the bench and faced his team. “For example, someone is homophobic and we see it, we stand up for him. We have a gay guy on our team, and he’s the reason we’ve gotten farther than we have in years. We could at least, you know, not be shit.”

The guy rolled his eyes. “So, what, I see someone beating on that Benji kid and I’m supposed to stop it?”

Andrew regarded him. “Yes. Exactly. Look at you, even with only twenty IQ points, you can still get the gist.”

The guy stood, but two other kids stepped forward and held him back.

“We have to be better for him.” Andrew said to everyone. “I know I heard other people crying, too. The chance that he has some sort of mental problems now, he has enough shit going on that he doesn’t need us being shitty to him, too.”

No one argued this time. In fact, everyone seemed pretty much on his side. 

“Alright,” Andrew said, and swung his bag over his shoulder. “Anyone here has anything to say about it, they deal with me. Anyone anywhere has anything to say to him, they deal with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))) comments bring me joy more comments = faster posting, it's a direct cause/effect pls love me I'm desperate
> 
> Still miss Venji_Enthusiast hope they're ok they're so valid what good energy they had I miss their comments they were so kind but it's ok as long as they are ok and happy


	5. Sandcastles in the Rain

Victor carried his parcel with great care, for it had a very important place to go. It had a very important person to be handed off to. 

Jeff was at the front desk when Victor walked in. 

He didn’t notice him at first, probably because it was the first time he’d see Victor’s face bruise-free. But once he did, his eyes lit up and he rounded the counter, a smile on his face. Victor felt at ease when he saw it. 

“Victor! How are you doing?” He asked, studying him carefully so as to make sure he didn’t have any bruises. 

“I’m good,” Victor told him honestly. “Can we go somewhere private? I’d like to talk to you.”

Jeff nodded and led him to a small room with a table. It was marked as ‘the Quiet Room’ with tiles floors and only four chairs and counter space and cabinets along three of the four walls. There were bean bags and yoga balls strewn around, though they both opted for a chair around the table. Victor set the parcel on the table in front of him, and Jeff regarded both him and the box carefully.

“What is it?” He asked softly. 

Victor nodded his head at the box. “You told me once that someone stole your tres leches cake.”

A smile spread slow, like molasses, over Jeff’s face. “You got me a tres leches cake?”

Victor nodded, swallowing down his fear. “To say thank you. For helping me.”

Jeff sighed as he looked at Victor, then stood. He went to a cabinet and grabbed two paper plates and two plastic forks along with a cake knife. 

“Well,” He said as he settled back in his chair. “My wife is out of town, there’s no way I’ll be able to finish this all on my own. How big do you want your slice?”

Victor studied him carefully and shrugged. He was starving, but this was Jeff’s cake, not Victor’s. “However you want to cut it.”

Jeff gave him a decently large piece which matched the size he’d given himself, then placed one of the forks on Victor’s plate and dug in. They at first ate in silence. Victor wasn’t sure where to start.

“So,” Jeff said after a few bites, “what was it you wanted to talk about?”

“Right, well,” Victor wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes intent on the white box open in front of them. “I just wanted to say thank you. For helping me.” He glanced up at Jeff, who was just looking back at him, expression unreadable. “I honestly don’t think I’d be alive without you.”

Jeff took a deep breath and sighed it back out then got back up and busied himself with finding some napkins. “I’m not sure about that. You’re a fighter, kid. I could see that from day one.”

Victor shook his head even though Jeff had his back to him. He needed him to understand this. He needed Jeff to understand. “I’m not. I never was.”

Jeff took a small pile of napkins and went back to his seat. “I’m not so sure about that.”

They were silent as Victor stared at his cake. He bit his lip, lost. “Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

Beat.

“I’m gay.”

Victor’s heart seized. The only times he’d said it, rare as they were, nothing went well. Nothing ever went well. Jeff would kick him out. He’d beat him, he’d find his father and tell him where he was and what he was doing and--

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

Oh. 

Victor stared at Jeff, his brain short circuiting. “You- you don’t mind?”

Jeff shook his head, shrugging. “Should I?”

With a heavy sigh, Victor opened his mouth and explained everything. He told Jeff about the night before his first arrival at the community center, how his dad had beaten him, and he explained how he lived on the street that weekend. He told him about how his friend took him in, how he was always so scared. Victor was crying as he told him about how terrified he was all the time, how he could never let go of himself long enough to understand that Armando would never come. He explained how he got himself into a depressed state, a severe spiral just sending him down all the time. He told him about his new family, the Spiers and the New York crew and his friends here, and how they loved and accepted him as he was. He told him about Spring break, and about how he and his boyfriend stayed at the Spiers’, and how he went out and his dad found him and tried to kill him and that was when he came back. He told him about how Benji had found his father, and he’d hit him, too. He explained how his mother found out and finally decided to kick him out despite the danger it put her and her family in. But once he got started, he couldn’t stop. Beyond the beatings, he went into a rant about his constant state of terror, his lapses, his nightmares. He told Jeff about how scared he was to be alone with himself every night, how he only felt safe when Benji was there, and not even all the time. He told him about fearing for Benji’s life, and fearing for his family’s lives. He explained  _ everything _ . 

Jeff was silent the whole time, listening as Victor poured out the contents of his heart and his brain. And when he went silent, feeling a peaceful space come to reside in his chest, neither moved. Neither spoke. The only sound was the air conditioning and Victor’s sniffles. Eventually, Jeff picked up a napkin and held it out to him; Victor took it with a small thanks. 

“That’s a lot, Victor,” He said quietly. “Thank you for confiding in me. I’m so honored that you trust me.”

Victor shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I really don’t know you. But you helped me. When I thought I was going to die, you helped me.”

Jeff nodded, solemn. “Yes. When someone goes through trauma, they tend to cling to those they trust.”

Victor sniffed and wiped his nose with the napkin. “I don’t know what it all means. I don’t want to have some sort of mental disorder. It wasn’t a war, it was getting hit twice.”

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but if I remember correctly, if you’d have to come to me much later, you would have started bleeding out.”

Victor sighed and sat back in his chair. “So, does this mean my whole life is fucked?”

“Of course not,” Jeff moved to the edge of his seat and lowered his head so he could look Victor in the eye. “You are sixteen years old, Victor. You have so much life to live. You just need to figure out the best way to move forward.”

“How do I know what that is?” Victor asked. New tears were brimming in his eyes. He’d cried so much since the night of the Spring Fling it was a wonder how he had any water left in him. “I tried to go on a date with Benji the other day and almost ruined the whole thing!”

“But you didn’t,” Jeff reminded him earnestly. “You need to look at the bright side. You have three loving families and a whole community at your back along with a doting boyfriend who is more than ready to do whatever you need to get better. You have so much life left, and it will be hard to get back, but you’ll find a way. I know you will.”

Victor sighed, tired of arguing. “I guess so.”

Jeff nodded like he knew Victor just wanted the conversation to end. “Do you know who you’ll be doing about him?”

Victor shook his head. “No. We’re considering pressing charges, but… I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to.”

Jeff gave Victor a sympathetic look. “I understand. You just want to move on. Forget about the whole thing. Now, I’m not saying you should or shouldn’t, it is up to you and your family, and I’m not saying this could be you, everyone is different. But I know it is a lot harder to move on knowing he’s out there, angry. You need to find peace, Victor, in whatever way that is. Knowing he’s locked up, moving somewhere else, getting therapy, or simply just proving to yourself that you’re better than him. Whatever it is, I hope you find the way to do it. I’ll be here for you if you need me. And hey,” he added, “if you do decide to go through with a trial and you want a witness to testify, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

Victor looked at Jeff, and realized that this man was his friend, too. He helped him, and he’d be here for him no matter what. “I’ll remember that.”

They finished their cake, moving onto talking about Victor’s school, before eventually Benji texted Victor to let him know that he’d be on his way to his place in an hour. Victor and Jeff finished up, and they headed to the door. Jeff gave Victor his number and made sure he’d call if he had any problems, then gave him a quick handshake and let him go. Victor felt lighter than he had in months.

***

It’d started raining somewhere between Victor getting out of the car and getting to his apartment. The skies had been bright and sunny when he was out there, but now the rain had set in. It made the scars on Victor’s skin ache with the phantoms of the past.

Isabel was gone again, left to deal with the divorce, so it was just Pilar and Adrian to keep Victor company until Benji came. Adrian had wanted to go to the mall, but Pilar said not until Benji got here. No one wanted Victor left alone. He wasn’t sure what they were worried about, but he was grateful for it anyway.

They all sat on the couch in silence, Adrian watching another unboxing video and Pilar scrolling through Instagram. Victor just stared out the window at the rain. His groin hurt with the ghosts of the first night out on his own; the aching a reminder of all he’d lost.

And then, Victor was on his feet. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he mumbled something about Felix and left the apartment. Except he didn’t go to Felix’s apartment; he went outside. 

He stood on the top step, standing in the storm. His cheekbone twitched with the memory of a bruise, and another pain swirled in the center of his stomach where Armando’s boot had sunken into Victor’s flesh so long ago. Had it really been that long ago? Was the time so quick to speed by that Victor barely even noticed?

Had only a month passed? The night of Spring Fling, the next week, the week after, then break, then now… Had it really been so little time? Had Victor’s world shifted billions of times over only over the course of four weeks, a span of time he used to consider a flash of a moment?

As Victor stood on the step, very quickly becoming soaked through with rain, he conveniently forgot to think. All he could focus on was the phantom pangs in his scars. Somewhere within him he could see himself standing there, and he understood that Benji was about a half hour away, then his mind went blissfully blank.

***

“Victor!” Benji shouted, running to his side. 

What? Victor was rooted to his spot, drenched to the core with rain, ice cold rivulets running down his face and into his eyes. Had he seriously been standing here for a full half hour staring so dreamily into space? All over he was screaming, his joins yelling their dislike for his sudden movements.

“How long have you been standing out here?” Benji shouted over the sounds of the storm. Thunder boomed overhead. This was really turning into more than just some rain. Wind whipped at them, and Benji’s hair was quickly becoming soaked, which Victor kind of found adorable. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Benji took off his jacket, a heavy black jean jacket that was somehow too big for him but still hugging his muscles in a way Victor very much liked, and wrapped it tightly around Victor’s own shoulders. Benji’s white shirt had almost instantaneously become soaked through with rain. Victor forgot for a moment it was impolite to stare and openly ogled his boyfriend’s chest. Then, he remembered social cues and dropped his gaze to the jacket around him and Benji’s feet moving him inside. If Victor had any warmth left in him, he was sure he’d be blushing all over from the whole ordeal. But instead, all he did was shiver under the rain pelting with such sureness at his face. 

Victor allowed himself to be led to his own apartment, blissfully blocking out his thoughts once again and letting his feet move on autopilot. 

The next thing he knew, he was dressed and on his own couch, sitting next to a dry Benji, staring at the TV. Benji’s jacket, now dry, was wrapped delicately around Victor’s shoulders. With great effort, he gripped the jacket closer to himself and nuzzled into Benji’s side. Victor could hear his mother’s voice somewhere far away, saying something about dissociation and “Is it serious? What should we do?”

Benji wrapped an arm around Victor’s shoulders, kissing his head. “Hey. You here with me?”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut, shocked at how much it made his eyes sting. “I think,” he said, his voice raspy. 

“It’s almost dinnertime,” Benji told him softly as he carefully ran a hand through Victor’s hair. 

“I’m not hungry,” Victor said and cleared his throat.

Benji frowned. “I really think you should eat. If my sources are correct, you haven’t eaten much today.”

Victor sighed. “But--”

“Vic, I really think you should eat.”

Victor remembered Jeff’s words:  _ a doting boyfriend who is more than ready to do whatever you need to get better _ . That was definitely a good way to put it. 

“Okay.”

Isabel made soup for dinner, and everyone ate on the couch so Victor wouldn’t have to move. Adrian seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Benji played with him, entertaining his stories and playing a thousand rounds of Tic-Tac-Toe per Adrian’s request. Victor did his best to watch, but he was so sleepy that sometimes he’d come back and find them on a whole different round of the game. 

Benji left around 8 when the storm had finally subsided. Victor shrugged off his jacket and held it out to him, but Benji just shook his head. 

“You keep it,” He told him. “It looks much better on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls give me love pls 🥺


	6. If the Truth Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I'm already about to write chapter 8 where did the words come from where did they go where did they come from (cotton eyed joe)

Benji had a tense set to his shoulders as they swept the floor of Brasstown, and Victor for the life of him could not figure out what could have caused it. 

It’d been a few days since the incident in the rain. The next day Emily had come over and had a long talk with him about dissociation and what it meant and how it could affect him. Things had sort of gone back to normal after that, as normal as his life could be, plagued by memories and nightmares and fear. Andrew and a few other basketball guys had texted him over the last few days to check up on him and make sure he was doing alright. The constant attention freaked Victor out a bit, but it was much preferred to the constant harassment he’d thought he’d be enduring until graduation. 

“Hey, Benji,” Victor said softly, pausing as he swept. “Are you okay? You seem upset.”

Benji shrugged and set his broom against the nearest table. “I don’t know. I mean, it doesn’t really matter in the long run, and you’re so busy with everything, I don’t really—“

“Benji.” Victor interrupted. He rested his own broom against a table and made his way to his boyfriend. He set his hands on his arms and kissed him softly, their noses grazing ever-so-slightly as he did. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered. “I wanna know.”

Benji sighed and squeezed his eyes shut tight. “I just… it’s stupid.”

“It’s bothering you, so it’s not stupid. It’s important. What is it?”

He dropped his forehead onto Victor’s shoulder. “I just don’t understand why you lied to me.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Benji sighed and stepped back, grabbing his broom again. “When everything started. You told Felix, but you never told me. Why not?”

Victor blanched. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought this would come up. How did he explain the pain he was in, his constant fear? 

“I was afraid,” he said softly. He took his own broom and started sweeping again so he’d have something with which to distract himself. “Everything was so new between us, and I knew you were going through your stuff with your dad, and everything with Mia and the fact that we’d gotten together  _ that night _ , I just… I didn’t want to be more trouble than I was worth. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“You could never be a burden, Victor—“

“I know that now. Kinda. But back then, I was just hurting so much all the time, and I was so convinced I would never heal from this. I was so convinced I deserved to be dead. And I felt so bad because you broke up with your boyfriend for me, your band broke up because of me—“

“That was  _ not _ because of you.”

“It kinda was,” Victor's voice cracked. “I was convinced that telling you would only hurt you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Benji sighed and took Victor into his arms, kissing him so sweetly. “I get it. I do. I just wish you would’ve told me. It really hurt finding out that you kept something so important from me. I could’ve helped you.”

Without thinking, Victor blurted, “Like you helped me when I impulsively kissed you at the motel?”

Benji’s face was a poor mask trying desperately to cover his hurt. “Oh. Right.”

Victor covered his face with his hands. Why would he bring up something that happened so long ago? “I’m so sorry, Benji. I shouldn’t have said that, that was so rude, I’m—“

“No, Vic, you’re right.” Benji sighed. “I could’ve been a better friend to you. But we both know I kissed you back. I guess I was afraid of what that meant. I wish I had been better. I could’ve helped you. But I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

Victor shook his head. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. It was so long ago—“

“But you deserve an explanation.” Benji stressed. 

Victor sighed and pressed himself to Benji’s chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t help you when you needed it,” Benji said, rubbing Victor’s back with a gentle hand. 

They held each other, shuffling slowly to the song playing overhead. Victor, in that moment, felt alight with love. He was so completely enamored with Benji Campbell, he wondered how it could ever be wrong. 

“Remember the last time we danced in here?” Benji asked with a soft laugh. 

“And then you did a cover  _ for me _ ?” Victor shot back with a chuckle. “Yeah I remember.”

“No one said that was for you,” Benji said, though he didn’t sound completely convinced. 

“We danced to Call Me Maybe, and then you sang a cover of it, like, a week later while you stared at me the whole time, then got off stage and kissed your boyfriend.” Victor stopped them and laughed. He added, “I don’t think I will ever forgive you for that emotional torment.”

Benji laughed, too. “Maybe I can make it up to you.”

He tilted his head up and leaned in. Their lips were so close to touching, and Victor already felt the soft touch of Benji’s to his, when the phone rang behind the counter. Benji jumped, almost hitting his nose on Victor’s. “Fuck!”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh as Benji did his best to compose himself and go get the phone. “You can make it up to me some other time.” Victor told him. Benji rolled his eyes and took the call. 

***

Victor carried his lunch in one hand as he made his way to the table. He could barely remember how the first half of the day went, but he didn’t care. He was starving. He felt like there was a hole in his stomach from how hungry he was. 

Everyone in the pavilion was louder than usual. Their laughs were louder, their words were louder. Everything was so loud. 

Victor’s friends, though, were silent and still as they sat at their table. Adrian and Pilar were there, too. Someone had taken Victor’s seat. They all stared into space. No one was eating. Victor wondered if none of them were hungry. 

“Hey, guys,” Victor called. “Where should I sit?”

Everyone turned to him in tandem except the person in his spot. He could swear he’d recognized that head somewhere…

Benji spoke first. “Why’d you do this to us, Victor?”

Victor stared at them all. “Why’d I do what?”

No one spoke. 

“What do you mean?” Victor insisted. He was so scared. He gripped his lunch bag, but it wasn’t a bag anymore. Victor looked down and saw that in his hand was no longer a paper bag, but instead a long, sharp dagger. His hands were covered in blood. 

He dropped the dagger in shock and looked back up at them all. They were all standing, staring at him with pain on their faces, their hands by their sides. The man still hadn’t turned around. 

Victor’s eyes went from each and every one of them, horrified, as he watched dark spots grow in each one of their stomachs. Had Victor done that? Did Victor hurt them all? Did Victor kill them? 

He was crying. He was so scared. 

The man turned around, and Armando’s face was twisted into a wicked smile, eyes wide and teeth sharp and bloody. He stepped forward. 

“Look what you’ve done!” He shouted over the cries of Victor’s friends. “Look how many people you’ve hurt!”

Everyone everywhere had stab wounds in their stomachs. Victor cried out. He hurt so many people. He hurt everyone. 

Armando took another step forward and brandished his own dagger. It looked unbelievably sharp; it glinted in the light. The sunlight felt too white, too bright, too close, like a fire at his back. 

Armando sunk the blade into Victor’s gut, laughing—

Victor woke up with a start, sitting up in his bed, whimpering. His hands flew to his stomach; he was free of any wounds. It was just a dream. It was a dream. 

Victor swallowed down a strong urge to vomit, and stuffed his fist into his mouth and bit down as hard as he could until he tasted blood. He stifled his own sobs like that, suddenly trying desperately to remember what the dream was about, what had happened. 

He couldn’t recall. 

He stood up, wobbly, and lurched forward as far as he could. He was sweating so much and burning hot and so very cold. He peeled off his clothes down to his underwear, trying his best to breathe. His hands led him blindly to his desk where he turned on his desk lamp, which cast a gentle light over the room. Victor may have to start sleeping with a nightlight or something if this kept happening. 

He eyed Benji’s jacket placed carefully over the back of his desk chair and weighed his options, then decided to pick it up. He held the jacket to himself, breathing in and noting that Benji’s scent was still on it. Without any more thought, he put on the jacket and pulled it tightly around himself, putting his nose to the collar to get another whiff of Benji. 

He made his way back to his bed and tucked himself into the corner, breathing in through his nose to keep Benji with him. 

He imagined the picture he was, naked except for a pair of underwear and an oversized jean jacket, tears on his flushed face and tucked into himself as much as he could get. 

Victor dismissed the mental picture, breathed in deep, and let the scent of Benji and the comfort of his jacket in the dim light of his desk lamp lull him back to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls :)))) y'all know the drill :)))) ily you beautiful ppl uwu


	7. You Bleed Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha y'all will hate this chapter
> 
> also I made some changes to the last part so uhhhh I mean ok
> 
> \- a worker knew about the fight at 7-11 so we know the tapes are saved  
> \- we know now that there are pictures of Victor's injuries from 2nd time around
> 
> because I felt like it. it'll make us all happy
> 
> okok actually here's the deal here is what I will do: I am going to take down the last chapter bc I want to take this a different route actually. Don't worry, it'll end the same, I just want it to go a different way thanks y'all

The room went silent.

“Victor,” Armando said softly. “You’re… here.”

Isabel stepped into Armando’s line of sight just as Benji sat up straight.

“Do anything to my son,” Isabel said slowly, “and I will destroy you.”

Victor was replaying the last few moments in his mind. He was studying with Benji and Felix on the couch, the front door opened, and now… now they were here. 

Benji was shaking with anger at Victor’s side. All Victor could do was stare.

He’d forgotten what real fear felt like.

“Relax, Is, I’m just here to get the rest of my things.” Armando said, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was only looking at Victor, a furious fire in his eyes. “I’ll be gone soon enough.”

“You don’t live here anymore, Armando,” Isabel said as she crossed her arms. “You need to knock.”

Armando rolled his eyes at Isabel. “I need to knock to get into my own apartment. How much bullshit--”

“This is not your apartment, Armando!”

“Yes it fucking is, Isabel!”

Victor whimpered softly where he sat. He was slowly cowering in on himself. He was going to die. Armando was going to kill him this time. He knew he was here, and he was mad.

Armando shoved Isabel aside and made his way toward Victor.

“You do not put your hands on me!” Isabel roared, but Armando paid her no mind. 

“You need to get the fuck out of here,” Armando told him. 

Benji stood and inserted himself carefully between Victor and his father. “Victor isn’t going anywhere. None of us are. Except you.”

“I’ll kill you the second I fucking can, you faggot.” Armando’s voice was but a whisper, his face barely a few inches from Benji’s.

Victor whimpered again. Felix grabbed his hand and squeezed tight. Victor squeezed back as hard as he could.

“You can very well try,” Benji told Armando. His voice carried a confidence Victor hated. He hated this. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to die. “I don’t think you’ll get very far.”

Armando breathed heavily. The way he stared at Benji made Victor’s blood boil, but he couldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move?

“I’m gonna kill you,” Armando said, “and I’ll kill your little fag boyfriend, too.”

Victor wasn’t sure exactly what happened next, but a fist connected with skin in one vicious crack, and everyone was moving. Armando was on the floor, his hand holding his jaw, and Benji was shaking out his right hand. 

Wait. What just happened?

Felix and Isabel were inspecting Benji’s hand, and Armando was moving toward Victor, and he was about to die. His attacker was in a rage, and he was about to die.

Benji grabbed Armando by the back of the shirt and shoved him toward the door. “You stay away from him!” He screamed. Victor didn’t understand. He was lost on what just happened. What just happened?

The front door slammed, and Victor just stared. He just sat there. Why couldn’t he move? Was he supposed to be moving? 

He realized with a start that he  _ was _ moving. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t stop. He was shaking so damn hard that he could barely see straight anymore. Everything was a blur. Was he crying? Wait, was that noise, that strange cry, that pathetic whimper, coming from  _ him _ ?

Benji was holding Victor, and it was all he could do to not collapse into himself completely. He couldn’t breathe. Should he have been breathing?

Victor saw Benji’s busted knuckles, and everything went white.

***

No one left Victor alone after that.

Benji was nearly always with him. He always made sure they were working together, and if Benji had a shift without him, he made sure at least one member from Victor’s team was with him. Typically it was Andrew. 

Victor wasn’t alone anymore, and he honestly didn’t mind it. He felt a little guilty as everyone coordinated schedules so someone always had an eye on him, but he never complained. He was just glad to be with everyone. He was glad to have a family.

It was a night with Benji, Mia, and Felix when they’d been studying particularly late. It was almost 7:00 when Isabel came in with three pizzas, shouting that dinner was ready.

Everyone crowded around the Salazar dining table with plates full of pizza, laughing at a story Adrian was telling about school. Victor could barely eat; he was laughing too hard. Pilar was laughing, too, hugging Adrian to her side. Victor felt purple and gold and green and blue light up his veins, sparkling and shimmering as it swirled through his brain. Victor was so very content. He was happy.

***

Victor had only been at Brasstown for an hour, but it felt like a damn century. He and Benji were behind the counter, taking orders and making drinks like the well-oiled machine they were. It’d finally started to slow down, so the two were leaning up against the counter talking.

“We should go on another date soon,” Benji said. He took a sip of water. “We don’t go on enough dates.”

Victor smiled and gave a little chuckle. “I could be talked into another date.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

Benji leaned over just a bit when they heard footsteps approach. Victor leaned around Benji to see; someone Victor didn’t recognize was waiting at the counter. He looked around their age, maybe a little older. Benji patted Victor’s thigh and stood to take his order. He slowly rinsed the supplies and listened, hoping to overhear what he was ordering to start now. 

“Hi, what can I get ya today?” Benji asked as he unlocked the register.

“Um, not sure. This is my first time here. Normally the CMA kids hang out at Starbucks, figured I’d try something new. Any recommendations?” The guy asked in return. Benji turned to Victor and shrugged.

Victor piped up, “I like the iced americano.”

The guy made a face. “Anything sweeter?”

Benji thought for a second. “Well, I like the frozen cappuccinos. They’re all pretty good, in my opinion.”

The guy smiled and nodded. “I’ll try one of those.”

Victor grabbed the necessary tools, and listened for size and flavor.

“What kind? We have mocha, chocolate chip, mint--”

“I’ll try the chocolate chip.”

“Size?”

“Well, I was thinking for a small, but I think a large would suit me better.” There was something strange to his voice, a strange emphasis like he was hinting at something, but Victor just ignored it and got started on the drink. He knew how much Benji loved these drinks, and he made them so often for him it felt like second nature to make it. 

“And can I have your name?”

“Only if I can have yours.”

Benji’s eyes snapped up, and Victor made a show of focusing very intently on making the drink. Brew the coffee, take the chocolate chips--

“I’m sorry?” Benji asked, honestly confused. Victor rolled his eyes as he listened. What an adorable idiot. God, Victor loved his dumb ass, and every other part of him.

The guy laughed fondly. “Sorry, I thought you might be gay, too.”

Benji tilted his head. “I am.”

Victor glanced over to see the hope in the guy’s eyes. “So, do you want to, maybe, do something sometime?”

The meaning behind his words dawned on Benji. “Oh. Oh! I, um, I’m flattered, but I have a boyfriend.” 

Victor was finished making his drink now and turned to watch the rest of the travesty.

“Well, I don’t care if you don’t care.”

And that was when Victor butt in, “He cares.”

Benji nodded, sheepish. “I do.”

The guy tilted his head. “Come on, he’s not around.”

“Yes I am,” Victor said. 

The poor kid looked like a damn deer caught in the headlights. “Oh. I-I’m sorry.”

“That’ll be $5.25,” Victor said. Benji gave him a look almost as if to say, ‘Cool it.’ And maybe he should’ve, but all this reminded Victor that his boyfriend was a damn catch. And he should totally claim that. Because when he eventually loses Benji because he was too fucked up for love, he’ll be devastated he didn’t take advantage of that more often.

The guy took his drink and left, and Victor gave Benji a sweet grin. “I love you.”

“Ha-ha,” Benji said flatly, but took both of Victor’s hands and kissed him. “I love you, too.” He kissed the tip of his nose. “But that was still mean. He was shooting his shot.”

“Until he tried to convince you to cheat, yes.” 

Benji bit his lip. “You’re right. If I heard anyone say that to you, I’d go mad.”

Victor laughed. “I’d never do that to you.”

Benji leaned in to kiss him again, but Sarah appeared from her office and shouted, “Kiss on your own time, not mine.” She sighed and went back into her office, muttering, “I liked it much better when you two were pining uselessly over each other.”

They laughed together and got back to work


	8. Make Up For It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Benji laughed, too. ‘Maybe I can make it up to you...‘“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have fun here, right? 
> 
> TW: sexual things. Not sex

This was probably one of the best Brasstown shifts Victor and Benji ever had. 

They were working together better than they ever had, which was damn well saying a lot. Benji was taking orders like wildfire, and Victor was making drinks, and sometimes when it was really busy they’d go back and forth with their orders, they took an order then went to making it while the other took the next order after being finished with the last drink they made. They were quick, and it was just much easier than listening for the next order while making the last one. They moved around each other with ease, almost like a dance, all smiles and flirting as they went. Victor’s heart was gold. 

A girl Victor recognized as a freshman was watching them speed through a six-drink order with amusement. 

“Hey, Benji, can you--” hand me the milk, Victor thought, but it was already in his hand by the third word.

“Hey, Vic, can I--” have the whipped cream, Victor knew, and it was being passed from his hand to Benji’s before he could even finish. 

And they went back and forth, finishing the order in three minutes. They high-fived, their smiles bright, and Victor took a swig of water as the girl smiled. 

“You two work really well together,” She told them. 

Benji turned to Victor, his eyes full of love. “Thank you,” he told her. 

She looked between them, realization dawning on her face. “And you make a good couple, too.”

Victor felt his own expression go soft as he looked at his boyfriend, then the customer. “Thank you.” He smiled softly. “What can we get you?”

She ordered quickly, and Benji turned around to get her drink started. Victor took the scones she ordered and put them in the toaster oven to warm them, setting the timer for two minutes. 

“We are good together,” Victor said, reflecting on the interaction.

Benji shrugged, but he was smiling. “I know.”

He called the girl’s name and put the two drinks on the counter just as the toaster oven dinged. Victor just opened the door when Benji came behind him and kissed behind his ear. Victor gave the tiniest gasp, leaning back into Benji just as he felt his warmth disappear. Victor turned around and watched Benji shrug with a smirk and a chuckle, then take another patron’s order.

Victor sighed heavily and stuffed down the heat in his stomach. He bagged the scones as nicely as possible with his increasing frustration and called the girl’s name, only to be met by Benji’s ass as he bent over to get out more coffee grounds. His jeans stretched nicely over his butt, dropping just enough for Victor to see the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer. Victor’s body went hot and he took a sharp 180 ° turn, breathing heavily. Benji came up beside him and touched his hand gently to his back, making Victor jump. Benji looked concerned as he studied his face. 

“Are you okay, Victor?” Benji asked, frowning. “You look… sweaty.”

Victor closed his eyes. “Fine. It’s just… hot back here.”

Benji’s frown deepened. “Do you want a minute? I can hold down the fort back here. I know sometimes it’s a little stressful.”

Great. Now Benji was worried about him when Victor was just… feeling…  _ things _ . Victor shook his head. “No, really, I’m fine. It’s just kinda hot.”

Benji nodded and ran a hand through Victor’s hair. “Okay. Promise you’ll let me know if you need a break?”

Victor nodded. He felt bad. He wanted to tell Benji the truth, but how embarrassing was that?

“Excuse me,” The customer at the front of the line called, “I’m thirsty.”

Benji very discreetly rolled his eyes, shot Victor one more look, then went to take her order. And so the night went on.

***

“Can we please listen to anything else?” Victor asked as they swept. Benji laughed.

“Tired of Easy Listening?”

“Put me out of my misery!” Victor cried. Benji only laughed again. Victor had a growing suspicion that Benji didn’t have much sympathy for him.

Benji hooked his phone up to Bluetooth and put on his Spotify playlist. The first song that played was Call Me Maybe, and Benji started doing a little dance and over exaggeratedly mouthing along to the words. Victor laughed and groaned. 

“What is this?” He asked with another groan.

“It’s my Victor playlist,” Benji told him and pecked him on the lips. Victor’s heart warmed. Benji had a whole playlist just for him.

“Honestly,” Benji said as he picked up his broom again, “I can’t believe I didn’t realize you were gay when this song was on your most listened to. I mean, what straight man listens to Carly Rae Jepsen unironically?”

“What straight man listens to Carly Rae Jepsen at all?” Victor amended. He laughed. “I was so embarrassed talking then, I wished I kept my mouth shut. I wish I never spoke in my life.”

Benji laughed. “You were adorable.”

“I was mortified by  _ myself _ .”

This only earned more laughter from Benji. Really, Victor was starting to believe he had no sympathy for him at all tonight. He pouted, but Benji’s laugh was so brilliant and bright that even Victor couldn’t resist a smile.

Benji looked at him, sobering up. “Are you okay? Earlier you seemed really flustered and upset.”

Victor stared at him for a moment before the meaning behind Benji’s words dawned on him, and he felt his skin burning with the reminder. “Oh, earlier. Right. I was um… yeah, no, I wasn’t upset.”

Benji furrowed his brows. “What do you mean? There was something wrong.”

Victor shook his head, lips pursed. This was going to be a worse conversation than the Call Me Maybe situation, wasn’t it? “Well, the skin behind my ear is really sensitive.”

Benji stared at him, confused.

“And, well… I turned around and you were getting something from the fridge, and…”

It seemed to take another moment, but Benji seemed to understand where Victor was going with this, and a blush rose in his cheeks, too. “I see.” 

Victor rubbed the back of his neck, cringing at the floor. “Yeah.”

He chanced a glance at Benji. Surely he would see him upset, hurt even. He would see discontentment. 

Instead, all he saw was a hunger he’d never seen on Benji’s face as he seemed to take Victor in all over again, faded bruises and all, gaze racking over his body from top to bottom, bottom to top, before stopping at his face. But he wasn’t looking at Victor’s eyes; he was looking at his lips.

The song changed. Victor recognized it from when they’d listened to music together before. It was No Cars Go by Arcade Fire. They’d listened to the song in the grass one day after school when they were both off. Benji had mentioned off-handedly with a red face that he’d always thought this would be a good song to have sex to. Victor saw the opportunity now. And it was a damn good opportunity before him, and was he ever one to deny an opportunity such as this?

“You know,” He said, “you never did make it up to me. The whole cover thing.”

Benji had a certain heat in his gaze Victor had never seen before. “I could make it up to you now.”

Without another second’s thought, Victor walked forward, and their lips met before he could even register that he’d made it to Benji. One of them made a noise, Victor couldn’t tell who, but it was loud. He tangled his fingers into Benji’s hair and drew him closer. Benji let his broom drop from his hands and held tightly to Victor’s waist. The broom fell with a clatter; neither of them paid any mind. 

Victor felt the song surround him in his fervor to get closer to Benji. He felt their kiss set itself to the quick tempo of the song. They were sharing air now, and Benji squeezed his hips as he pulled himself closer. Their crotches brushed; Victor let out a tiny whimper. Benji groaned in reply and spinned and backed them up so Victor was against the nearest table. They writhed together to the song, mouths moving in tandem with each other. Benji slotted himself between Victor’s legs, and  _ fuck _ if that wasn’t everything Victor never knew he needed. He whined again, something high pitched and needy, a sound which he never thought he’d hear from his own throat. Benji pressed closer to him and reached to the backs of Victor’s thighs and hoisted him up onto the table. His tongue slithered inside Victor’s, and he swallowed him up. Benji grinded down onto Victor’s crotch with another groan, and Victor was lost in the pleasure of it all. He wanted more, he was greedy with it, intoxicated by the warmth, the smell, the feeling of having Benji surround him. He experimented a bit, lifting his hips up in time with Benji’s moving down, and it created the most divine friction. They both moaned, Victor’s high release harmonizing sweetly with Benji’s low groan. It felt so good, so he did it again, pushing up as Benji thrusted in. Benji moved his mouth from Victor’s to his neck, kissing down the side, moving behind his ear to kiss there. Victor gasped for breath and held on tight to Benji’s hair, weak with the feeling of Benji’s lips at such sensitive skin. He experimented again, pulling softly at Benji’s hair from the roots. Benji’s hips stuttered and lost their rhythm, and he bared his teeth against Victor’s sensitive spot. Victor was starting to lose control.

The song was getting tenser, faster, and Victor wasn’t sure he’d be able to last much longer. 

He reached down to the waist of Benji’s shirt, then he stopped. Benji stopped, too, and they both seemed lost.

The song ended.

Victor wasn’t sure what happened. Why’d they stop? 

“Victor,” Benji panted. “I don’t want our first time to be here, like this.”

Victor nodded. “Me neither.”

Neither moved. 

“I, uh,” Benji carefully extricated himself from Victor’s grasp, stretching out his fingers. “I think that’s enough sweeping.”

“Yeah,” Victor said, his voice raspy. “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you go clock out?” Benji said. He wouldn’t look at Victor now. Why wouldn’t he look at him? “I’ll go put the brooms away.”

Was Benji ashamed of what just happened? Did he forget who he was kissing? And then remember? Did he regret it?

Victor, still achingly hard in his jeans, picked himself up off the table and stumbled to the time clock. 

When he came back out, Benji was wiping down the table they’d used to… yeah. 

Victor cleared his throat so Benji was aware of his presence. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at this table the same ever again.” Benji said with a breathy chuckle.

Victor nodded, though Benji still had his back to him. “Yeah, well… Me neither.”

Benji turned around and looked at Victor. He licked his lips, just a dart of his tongue, but it was enough to get Victor moving. “Right, well, I guess it’s time to go. Goodnight.”

“Victor,” Benji called out. “Wait.”

Victor stood very still and took calculated deep breaths. 

Benji walked slowly, like he was trying to keep from falling over. “I, uh… maybe we could do that again sometime?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his face a streak of red in the dark light of the empty cafe. “Maybe some place more private?”

Victor nodded. “I’d like that.”

Benji nodded, too. “Good.” He kissed Victor so sweetly, gently. “I love you. Have a good night.”

***

Victor really wasn’t sure how he made it home without falling flat on his face. His whole body was a wreck of hormones and memories and his underwear was wet with precome and  _ fuck _ he should just do it. 

It was his bedroom. It wasn’t like it was something he’d never done before. 

He should just do it. 

He was home. He was safe. He should do it. 

He was laying in a pair of underwear and literally nothing else in his bed, he should do it.

As Victor lay there, trying desperately to avoid his half-hard dick beneath the sheets, he realized something: normal fucking teenagers would never think twice. Benji was probably at home right now doing the same fucking thing. 

His dick twitched with interest at the thought. So, Victor explored it. 

He thought of Benji in his bed. Benji without clothes, his hand stroking himself. He’d probably squeeze his eyes shut like he did when he was being dramatic to be funny, and he’d probably be biting his lip. Or maybe his mouth would have fallen open into a perfect little  _ O _ . Maybe he’d think of Victor as he touched himself. Maybe he’d think of Victor in his bed, naked. Maybe he’d think of the way it felt to kiss him that night, move with him, move against him.

Okay, Victor couldn’t do it anymore. 

He lifted his hips off the bed and slid his boxers off, freeing his erection. He wasn’t sure when the last time he’d done this was, and it was most certainly way too long. It’d probably been before the Spring Fling. He wouldn’t have anywhere else to do it. 

He could hear his own breath trembling and catching as he used his own precome and spit to lube up his hand. He covered his mouth with his other hand to stifle a whimper. He thought about Benji again, and the sounds he made tonight. He’d catalogued each and every sweet little noise that had escaped his throat, his moans and groans and gasps, played those over and over in his head as he fisted his own cock, trying his best not to make any sounds now. He was already so sensitive after the heavy makeout session in Brasstown, already so full of energy and hormones and thoughts that it only took a couple minutes before he came, spilling white over his hand and stomach in soft streaks. 

He fell back against his pillows, suddenly so very exhausted. He remembered he kept wipes in his nightstand for nights like these, so he checked to see if they were still there. They were.

He cleaned himself off and slid his boxers back on, then let the sweet cloud of euphoria slip over his mind and lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) pls love me


	9. The Shapes of an Ant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleasant reminder that I deleted the chapter with the lawyer!! That now no longer happened!! No lawyer here yet!! This chapter is why

It was a quiet Saturday morning on the couch. Victor was reading  _ Chronicle of a Death Foretold _ , which was a terrible book really, but he wanted to be sure he could still read in Spanish. He was reading it pretty well. The book was awful, but he was getting through it quickly enough. 

He was on the couch with Benji. At some point, Victor had lain down and put his head in Benji’s lap. Benji smiled and ran his hands through Victor’s hair as he read. Between the calming sensations of Benji’s hands in his hair and the absolutely shitty book he was reading, it was a good combination to put him to sleep. 

“Will you read to me?” Benji asked suddenly. 

Victor looked up at him and furrowed his brows. Benji was such a better sight than this God awful book. “You want me to translate it for you?”

Benji shook his head. “Read it in Spanish.”

Victor nodded and swallowed down his fears. He read, “Santiago Nasar tenía un talento casi mágico para los disfraces, y su diversión predilecta era trastocar la identidad de las mulatas…” Benji listened as he read on, closing his eyes and responding to the cadences in Victor’s voice, smiling as he listened. Victor kept looking up to see if he was still with him, and every time he was. It was odd; Victor was reading about such a terrible thing, yet Benji looked so peaceful and content. It made Victor think about the subtle forgiveness of death, how sweet its embrace used to seem to him. Now, at times like these, he prayed it never came.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mothers watching them fondly from the kitchen counter. 

“Look at them,” He heard Isabel say. “They’re so good together.”

“They are,” Emily said back. They both seemed content to watch as Victor read to Benji. 

It wasn’t that much later before there was a knock at the door and someone calling, “SCPD, open up!”

Victor sat up just as Benji opened his eyes. Shady Creek Police Department? What were they doing here? Pilar resurfaced from her room, Adrian with her.

Isabel looked at her children, then zeroed in on Adrian. “Pilar, take him to your room. I’ll come get you when they’re gone, okay, mi amor?” 

Pilar nodded and picked Adrian up at the waist, carrying him to her room, bargaining to let him watch as many unboxing videos as he wanted. He asked for Frozen 2; she agreed. 

Isabel watched them go, then very calmly went to go get the door. Victor craned his neck to see. “May I help you?”

It looked like a white man and a Hispanic woman. Something in Victor eased when he saw her there. 

“Hi,” the man said, flashing his badge. “I’m Detective Greene, this is my partner Detective Hernandez.” He put his badge away. “Does an Armando Salazar live here?”

That feeling came back, but a thousand times worse. What happened? Were they looking for Victor? Was he in trouble?

“No, not anymore. He is my husband.” Isabel said. 

“Isabel,” Emily called, “you don’t have to say anything more without a warrant and a lawyer.”

Detective Greene gave Emily a sharp look then took out a piece of paper and held it out. “We have our warrant right here.”

Emily jumped off her stool and took the warrant from his hands, inspecting it carefully. Isabel peered over her shoulder to look as well. “Okay,” Emily said. “Why are you asking for Armando Salazar?”

Detective Hernandez spoke up, “If you let us inside, we can tell you everything we know.”

Isabel looked to Emily for assistance. “Well,” Emily said, “we can’t really stop you.”

Victor’s mothers let the two detectives inside. Detective Hernandez was wearing a sleek charcoal-colored pantsuit while Detective Greene wore nice jeans, a button down, and a blazer. Victor and Benji sat close together while their mothers sat on either side of them, staring down the two officers opposite them as if to say  _ I dare you to try to hurt one of my kids. _

There was a heavy silence sitting on the six of them.

“So,” Detective Hernandez finally said. “We have reason to believe that Armando Salazar has committed at least one account of assault three weeks ago, and we believe it is likely he committed another.”

Victor stared at them, lost. Detective Hernandez kept shooting him looks, like she was trying to decide whether to say something to him. Victor knew why. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror; his bruises, faded and painless as they may be, were still dark enough all over his face to draw attention. Victor wondered if she noticed the shadow of a bruise on Benji’s cheekbone, too.

“Armando Salazar is wanted for arrest.” Detective Greene said. “Any information you may have about him and his whereabouts would be highly appreciated.”

Victor felt a wetness on his cheeks. His father was a wanted man. His attacker was a wanted man. He reached blindly for Benji’s hand, squeezing tight once he found it. 

Emily glanced down the line at them all. “Where was the assault? Do you know?”

Detective Hernandez nodded. The 7-11. They had proof that Armando had hit Benji over Spring Break.

“And how do you know there might have been another one?” Emily looked so terrified, but her voice was surprisingly even.

“There is a camera across the street. It caught the whole thing. We can’t see his face, but he had a similar build, pattern, and clothing as the one at 7-11.” 

Emily took a deep, calculated breath. “So, do we need to give an official statement?”

The detectives shared a look. “Not quite,” Detective Hernandez said. “Unless you have any information you’d like to disclose that could be helpful in indicting him.”

“It was me,” Benji blurted. “At the 7-11.”

The detectives shared another look and Emily closed her eyes. “Benji, don’t.”

Benji was crying now, his eyes wide with fear. He was shaking beside Victor. Both of them were so keyed up and so sick of being hurt. Everything was coming now. “I just wanted to talk to him, I swear.”

“Benji,” Emily said sharply. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I knew he was violent but I didn’t mean to provoke him. I told him I just wanted to talk.” His voice cracked. He was so scared and helpless and Victor didn’t know what to do. Everything was changing now. There was a possibility that Victor would be safe again. They were both overwhelmed.

Emily put a hand over Benji’s mouth. “Benji, plead the fifth. You’re a minor; you don’t have to talk to them.”

"It's okay," Detective Greene said. "We're not here to incriminate anyone except his attacker."

Benji was full-on sobbing now, and Victor didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like seeing Benji cry. Had he ever seen him cry before? Victor hoped he never would again.

The detectives were silent as Benji and Victor gathered themselves again. Victor stood, still trembling, and went to his room. He found Benji’s jacket and slipped it on, pulling it tight around him. He wiped his face with a tissue, then went back out. He took his seat beside Benji. They could do this. It would be okay. They could do this.

Detective Hernandez looked at Victor with sympathy. “It was you, wasn’t it? It was you he’d beaten outside? I thought it might be, but… it was you.”

He could not do this. 

Victor burst into tears again and nodded. The detectives pulled out their notepads and each wrote something down. Victor was shaking so bad that he thought he might shed his skin. Benji held him and slowly rocked him back and forth, humming softly. The vibrations in his chest soothed him enough that, after a few moments, he was able to sit up on his own and wipe his tears away. The detectives sat silent, patient, and politely waited for Victor to gather himself before continuing. 

“What happened that day?” Detective Hernandez asked. 

“Wait,” Emily said. “If we do this, I want it to be an official statement.”

“Yes,” Isabel said. “I think we want to talk to our sons first.”

Victor looked at his mother.  _ Their sons. _

Detective Greene nodded. “We understand. We want this man in custody as much as you all do. Do any of you know where we might be able to find him?”

Isabel gave the detectives an address Victor assumed Armando was staying at and added where they may be able to find him at work. The detectives gave Isabel and Emily their cards to call when they were ready to make any decisions. Detective Hernandez gave Victor a small nod and followed her partner out the door. 

Victor pulled Benji’s jacket tighter around himself. He felt like crying all over again, sick with fear and shame and relief. Someone was on his side.

***

The next day, the four went in to give their statements. They decided to bring Pilar, too, so they’d have a back up explaining the night of the Spring Fling. Nora happily agreed to babysit Adrian, so they dropped him off with her and headed to the police station. 

It was a grueling five hours as they each spoke to the detectives from yesterday. The only thing holding Victor together was glimpses of Benji he’d steal at any chance he’d get, and the jean jacket draped over his shoulders like a safety blanket. He held it tight to himself and never let go. 

They got back to the Spier household around six that night. Victor felt scraped raw from the inside out. He lurched to the side, lightheaded, and Benji caught him by the arm. He tried wrapping an arm around Victor’s shoulders as comfort, but something in Victor told him there was something deeply wrong with him. He felt a strange urge to cough, and his stomach felt queasy, and he felt lightheaded and clammy all over. His mouth kept filling with saliva, and it was getting harder to swallow it down as his throat battled to keep it there.

Victor gagged once, and he shot off to the bathroom and dropped to his knees, barely getting the toilet open before he vomited. 

Benji chased after him, kneeling behind him and rubbing his back, coaxing him through it all. Isabel was there, too, leaning against the counter beside him. Victor wasn’t sure if he really wanted to be with people or not, but he didn’t have any room to complain when his stomach lurched again, and he leaned forward and coughed up more vomit. He could barely breathe, and he was crying so damn hard, and he just wanted it to end. He gagged, and he tried so hard to keep it all down, but it seemed impossible. His abdomen hurt with the force of it. After he had nothing left in him to empty, he kept dry heaving, unable to stop. He was sobbing into the toilet between heaves, and Benji was there at his back the whole time, rubbing his hands up and down his spine, moving his sweaty hair from his forehead, muttering sweet words of encouragement into his ear. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Victor fell back, his throat and mouth burning and body aching, whimpering and crying as he prayed to whatever god was up there that this was the end. He was sure, though, that God was only laughing at him; his life was some cruel joke to whatever Higher Being there was. Victor would’ve shouted a giant ’fuck you’ at the ceiling if he didn’t think he’d vomit again while trying to open his mouth.

Emily brought him some water and some spare clothes Simon had left here, sweats and a loose t-shirt that, right now, couldn’t have felt better to wear. Everyone left him alone to clean up and change. He breathed through his mouth as he showered and dressed and wiped as much throw up from the toilet as he could. Nevertheless, the sour smell kept curdling in his nose, threatening to make him vomit all over again. 

He left the bathroom to everyone agreeing he and Benji would stay the night at the Spier house to keep him away from the bad memories. Victor didn’t mind; he just wanted to go to sleep.

Emily made him have some tea, water, and soup, and Isabel refused to leave until he ate it all. He gave his siblings a hug goodbye, and he and Benji went upstairs. Emily got a change of clothes from Simon’s for Benji, then let them sleep. 

Victor was exhausted. His stomach was sore from all the heaving, but his mind was racing with the day’s events. Victor hated coming out, and he hated coming out to those two police. He thought he’d die if he had to come out to anyone else in this lifetime. 

Benji slipped into bed with a sigh and pulled the covers over them. Victor turned onto his side so Benji could hold him better. They stayed like that, Benji’s chest against Victor’s back, his forehead to the nape of Victor’s neck, until sunrise. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were imagining Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago as Detectives Greene and Hernandez then good because I was, too
> 
> I swear you all are so sweet I,,,,, don't know how to respond to compliments so just know that if you compliment me it means the world to me but I'm socially awkward so that's that
> 
> Anyway, pls I love your comments
> 
> Day #1472841638 without Venji_Enthusiast miss you bb hope you're ok


	10. Stitches and Staples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh. some softish things for you

Victor frowned at his computer screen. Isabel stood above him; her silence was oppressive. 

“It’s okay, Victor,” She told him, though it surely didn’t sound like it. It definitely didn’t  _ feel _ like it. They were both looking at his report card. Isabel had a crease between her brows. 

He’d gotten mostly C’s, one D, and one B, which made a 2.7 GPA, just high enough to pass. Which meant just high enough to stay on the basketball team. It was so very terrible. If things were normal, his parents would’ve killed him. But things weren’t normal. His mother was consoling him. She was understanding.

“It’s okay,” She said again, patting his shoulder. “You’ll do better next time.”

Victor sighed and stared at his poor grades. Coach had been nice enough to give him a B in attendance, but he couldn’t do anything except fail him in participation. One of his teachers was lenient enough to let him make up any missed work or failed test, but he was missing so much in biology that it was nearly impossible to make it all up while trying to do everything he was able to in his other classes. Ms. Thomas had checked in with him after break to let him know his grade still sucked and if he needed any help this quarter, she’d be willing to offer him whatever he needed. Victor was grateful, though he wished it was unnecessary. He wished he didn’t need coddling. He wished so desperately that he could be normal.

“I’m gonna go check Pilar’s grades,” Isabel said. She kissed his head, then left to find Pilar.

Victor sighed. Benji texted him,  **did you see your grades??** Victor ignored it.

Instead, he stared at the screen, and thought of Simon. So, he opened up Instagram and pulled up their DMs. They still didn’t use numbers.

**Hey Simon,**

**So, I got my report card. It sucked.**

**You know that feeling, where you keep feeling like everything is shit, and this is just the cherry on top, no this is the cherry on top, no,** **_this_ ** **, is the cherry on top? And then you get that thing, that thing that doesn’t seem like the worst thing, but it is definitely, completely the cherry on top? That’s this.**

**Everything with my dad. And my family. And your family. And Benji. And my nightmares. And my constant anxiety. And now the police. I guess just seeing that my grades are shitty is just… the worst. I thought that maybe something could be okay, but nothing is okay. I just want it to be okay. I don’t know. This is kind of stupid. I just want something to be good.**

**Maybe nothing will be good. Maybe something will be. I don’t know.**

**Anyway, I just needed to vent, I guess. I still don’t really get it. I’m just devastated. It’s weird. Everything sucks and I’m worrying about a couple letters on a report card.**

**I don’t know. Whatever. Sorry.**

**Victor**

Victor was about to slide his phone into his pocket when it buzzed with a message.

**Victor,**

**I get it. When I was outed, I thought it was the worst. But Blue (Bram)(did I ever tell you about that?), Blue was pulled into it, too. I thought that must be the cherry on top. Except, now everyone saw our kinda dirty emails, too. Maybe that was the cherry on top.**

**I came out to my parents on Christmas day. My dad left the room. Maybe that was the cherry on top.**

**Then, all my friends hated me. Maybe** **_that_ ** **was the cherry on top.**

**Then, Blue (again, Bram) blocked me on Gmail. I thought that was most certainly the cherry on top.**

**These two assholes getting up on a table with a loud speaker, dressed like me and the other gay kid, Ethan, pretending to do anal in the middle of the cafeteria. And I couldn’t get them to stop. I thought that was the cherry on top.**

**But it wasn’t. You know what was? You know what was the big bow that tied it all together? The fact that I couldn’t come out by myself. I wanted to do it. I deserved to do it. But everyone knew, and maybe it would’ve been a bit more bearable if I were able to do it myself. If I were able to be the one to break the news. But I wasn’t.**

**There are these little things. These things that, in the long run, don’t seem like a big deal. To the people around you, they definitely don’t seem like the most important thing. But they’re the things that matter to you. Everything is out of your control except for this one thing. This one thing is your thing, and you can fix it. You can do it. This is your thing. No one can take it from you. No one can take that control away from you.**

**And then that control is taken away from you.**

**I get it, Victor. I completely do. Everything sucks. There should be things, at least** **_something_ ** **you should be able to control in your life. Something that has a bit of an impact, even if it’s not the main impact. Something bigger than what song comes on next. Something as big as being the one to call yourself gay, or getting yourself an A instead of a C. To other people, this definitely would not seem like the biggest problem you have. To other people, this probably wouldn’t even be their top ten. But it is to you. And that’s okay.**

**But Victor, you have to understand that this was a shitty time. This was the actual worst time you could have as a high schooler, being abused and homeless and harassed. It’s definitely one of the top five. It sucks. It’s terrible. And yeah, bad grades suck, too. But think of it this way: they’re not F’s. You were able to pull it around, and you were able to pass your classes. That’s a win, Victor. That is control.**

**I know it sucks. It all sucks. And we all wish we could be there to help you. We all wish we were there with you. From everyone up here to you down there, we love you. We miss you. We’re proud of you. We’re rooting for you.**

**We know you, Victor. You got this. You have the control now.**

**Love, Simon, and Bram, and Justin, and Kim, and Ivy**

***

Victor had his textbook propped up on Benji’s legs, which were thrown over Victor’s lap. That afternoon, they were both at Benji’s house holed up in his room. When Victor asked about his dad, all he got in response was, “Fuck what he says, I can do what I want,” and Victor couldn’t really argue with that. They were doing homework-- or, well, Victor was doing homework. Benji was complaining about the injustices of the nineteenth century.

“I just don’t get it,” Benji said from where he was propped up against the headboard. “Oscar Wilde wasn’t hurting anybody, he shouldn’t have been arrested.”

Victor sighed and picked up his pink highlighter. If he was going to bring his GPA up this quarter, he had to get serious with these notes. “It was the 1800’s, Benji, everyone was homophobic.”

“But who was he hurting?” Benji insisted.

Victor smiled to himself. Benji was adorable when he got in these rants.

“And Walt Whitman was given a dishonorable discharge because he was gay!” Benji went on. “A  _ dishonorable discharge _ ! For  _ being gay _ , Victor! Being gay!” He scoffed. “Ludicrous.”

Victor chuckled softly. “You know, Oscar Wilde was pretty racist.”

Benji looked heartbroken. “He was?” 

Victor nodded. “He was very pro-slavery.”

Benji groaned. “ _ Fuck! _ ”

Victor laughed again. Benji’s phone buzzed with a call. They both glanced at it, and Benji made a face and declined the call.

“Who was that?” Victor asked as nonchalantly as he could.

Benji looked at him, wary. “Well… it was, uh… Derek.”

Victor swallowed heavily. “Oh.”

Benji nodded, uneasy. “Yeah. He keeps calling me, trying to convince me to get back together with him and get the band back together.” He shook his head. “I keep telling him I don’t want to, but he won’t stop calling.”

There was a slight tremble in Victor’s voice as he said, “Well, why don’t you block him?”

Benji shrugged and picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “It just feels like erasing history, you know? Feels like I’m throwing away a whole year of my life.”

Victor observed his boyfriend carefully, though Benji refused to meet his eyes. “And what happens if you decide you want to do that? Get back together with him.”

Maybe Benji heard the fear in Victor’s voice because he glanced up. He stared at Victor for a second before he swung his legs off his lap and kneeled beside him. He cupped Victor’s face with both hands and kissed him softly. “It won’t,” he said once they broke apart. “It won’t happen because I love you, not him. He and I are ancient history. I swear.”

Victor nodded, absorbing the information. He darted his tongue out to moisten his lips, noticing how Benji’s eyes tracked the motion. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Now kiss me.”

“Okay.” Benji leaned forward and pressed his lips to Victor’s, soft and sweet. “Let’s get back to work, okay?”

Victor nodded, and Benji resumed his spot at the headboard, his legs over Victor’s lap. Victor nestled his book carefully on top of Benji’s knees once again, but as he picked up his pink highlighter to resume highlighting, he couldn’t help but wonder if Benji regretted breaking up with Derek for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls love :)) uwu you guys rock ily


	11. Emerald City Under a Sapphire Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Green and Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love and hugs and kisses for you all

Felix sat at Victor’s side, his nose in his textbook. Both seemed content to keep the silence that was there, settled deep into the sheets of Victor’s bed, dusted over their ears and mouths almost like tape. Victor dared not speak and disturb their peace, lest he have disaster. Felix had, every so often, glanced his way, but other than that they were free of distractions as they studied together.

However, just as it always had, just as it did that night after the Spring Fling, that evening Benji had brought up the quiet in Brasstown, that day he’d sat with Felix on his bed, the silence ended.

“I told Lake I loved her,” Felix blurted.

Victor’s head shot up, eyes wide. “What?”

“It was an accident,” Felix said in a rush. He sat up and moved his textbook away, so Victor did the same. This was a Serious Friend Talk. “We were just talking and relaxing and she said something funny and I laughed, and-- and I said it. I told her I loved her.”

“Felix!” Victor shouted with a bewildered smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s amazing! That’s…” He trailed off once he got a good look at Felix. He looked heartbroken. “That’s something. How’d she take it?”

Felix shrugged and picked at a thread in Victor’s sheets. “She looked really caught off guard, and then looked at her phone and told me her mom was just in a car accident.” He gave Victor a heavy look. “I know she’s the excuse queen, but when I looked at her, I knew she was lying. I know all of her tells. She was lying. She just wanted to leave without saying it back.”

“Has she talked to you since?” Victor asked. His heart ached for his best friend. He deserved so much better than what Lake gave him.

Felix shook his head. “No. And that was three days ago.”

Victor watched as Felix teared up. “I wish I hadn’t said anything. I just… wish I hadn’t said anything.” He wiped his face and continued, “I’ve tried reaching out to her to apologize, but she didn’t answer. So I thought maybe she didn’t want to talk about it, so I sent her a meme she’d like about some fish, and--” he threw his hands in the air in frustration “--nothing! She won’t talk to me! It’s like before you came when she didn’t know I existed.”

Victor tilted his head. “But at lunch you guys still sit together.”

“Yeah. She doesn’t say a word to me the whole time. I just keep waiting to see if something will change, but it won’t. And it took a thousand romantic gestures to get her to like me, I don’t have any left!”

Felix sighed and sat back. The room was silent again. 

“Maybe,” Victor started slowly, “you should give her some space. Let her know that you didn’t mean to say what you did, but that you meant it all the same. Tell her you don’t expect to hear it back, and she doesn’t need to say it back, but you miss her and you don’t want this to make things awkward.”

Felix nodded sadly. “I really do love her, Victor.” He said softly.

“I know,” Victor said. He offered Felix a heartfelt hand on his shoulder.

They were quiet for a moment before Felix said softly, “Hey, Victor?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure how you feel, but I just want you to know that I still think of you as my brother. Always.”

Victor smiled softly and pulled Felix into a hug, emerald shining bright everywhere they touched and in their hearts. “You will always be my brother, Felix.”

***

Victor was bored as hell, though he definitely preferred that to terrified beyond belief.

He, Pilar, and Adrian were spending the rest of the day at home while their mother was out with Emily talking to a lawyer. Adrian was watching an unboxing video on the couch, and Victor and Pilar were sitting beside him watching some reality show that neither of them were actually paying attention to. Victor, about a half hour in, decided to bite the bullet and said, “Pilar, can I ask you something?”

She opened her mouth, then immediately closed it. He was sure she was about to say some snarky comeback, but she swallowed it down and said instead, “Sure, what’s up?”

“I just…” He sighed. “I don’t understand something. Why did you isolate me for so long? I thought we’re closer than that.”

Pilar seemed sad. “We were. We  _ are _ . But… he was threatening us. He was threatening me and Adrian saying that if we talked to you then he’d hurt us. He said if we talked to you, he’d kill you.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I was so scared. I was so scared all the time that I’d get you killed or get Adrian or me or Mom hurt, and--” She cut off with a sob, and Victor immediately wrapped his arms around her and brought her to his chest. She cried onto his shoulder, trembling, coughing with the force of it all. “I hated myself for what I was doing to you. I was so scared. That first day back, when you called my name, he was  _ there _ , Victor. He was there. I was so scared that I’d get you hurt.”

As she cried, Adrian put down his iPad and crawled into their laps, resting between them. Pilar laughed wetly and sat back, wiping her tears away.

“I wish I could’ve been there for you. But he kept saying he wasn’t above murder. After a while he got over that whole ‘murder’ thing, but he was still threatening us all the time. I wish I could go back in time and change it.”

Victor shook his head and squeezed Adrian tight. “It’s okay.”

“No, it  _ isn’t. _ ” She sniffed and blinked back more tears. “I just wish I could’ve been there for you.”

Victor did, too, but he didn’t say that now. After all, he had his blue love right here shimmering in the low light of the evening, bright and big and beautiful. It was irreplaceable. It was immovable. 

“You are now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello love me?? uwu thanks


	12. O Negative, the Universal Donor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Question: Victor could feel normal??

“If you get this wrong one more time I will throw your body in a river.”

“That’s just disrespectful.”

Victor laughed. “I will do it! We have had a month to study, and I’m doing better than you!”

Benji pouted, leaning back into the couch cushions. “But I want my body to be found.”

“Tell me about what will happen to your body if it’s not found and maybe there won’t be a river at all!”

Isabel stared at them from the dining table. “You two are weird.”

They both laughed, and Victor shifted so he was more comfortable on the couch. “Okay. Benji. Listen very carefully. How much energy is passed from one organism when eaten, to the consumer?”

Benji stared at Victor like it was a trick question. “Um… twelve?”

“No!”

“Ten! Ten? Ten!”

“Yes, fucking ten, God,” Victor shouted, wheezing with laughter.

“Language,” Isabel called from the table.

Benji gave Victor a look. “I got it right.”

“But you also got it wrong.” Victor pointed out, and pecked Benji on the lips. “You’re gonna fail this test on Monday, aren’t you?”

Benji shrugged and kissed him. “Maybe.” He sat back and pulled out an index card. “How do dead animals fit into the ecosystem?”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut and reached for an answer. “Decomposers eat their carcasses.”

“And?” Benji asked, sitting back so Victor couldn’t kiss him yet.

Victor rolled his eyes. “And… they are eaten by other animals?”

Benji raised a brow and made a buzzer sound. “They decompose and their bodies go back into the soil as nutrients for producers.”

“I knew that,” Victor said indignantly.

“Sure,” Benji said sarcastically, and leaned forward to kiss Victor.

Isabel sighed at the table. “You know, Benji, it’s almost ten o’clock.”

Benji blanched and looked at his phone. “Dammit. There’s no way my parents will pick me up now.”

Victor glanced at him, then at his mom. “What if you just… stayed over?” 

They both stared at him, Benji with confusion, his mother with some expression Victor found impossible to read..

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Isabel said slowly.

“Why not? Victor asked. “Benji can just stay in my room with me. We can leave the door open if you want.”

Isabel looked at Victor and Benji together, and it took another second for Victor to place the look on her face. Guilt. Isabel Salazar looked plain guilty. 

“Okay,” she said reluctantly. “You can stay if you want. You don’t have to keep your door open, but I’d like it unlocked.”

Victor stared at his mother, surprised that actually worked. Benji looked between Isabel and Victor before saying, “Uh, sure. I’d like that.”

Isabel seemed wildly uneasy, but nodded anyway and went back to her computer. 

The couple packed up their things in silence, carefully tucking everything away into their backpacks. Victor was nervous; he wondered, as he watched Benji, if he was as nervous as Victor was. Maybe they could be nervous together. 

Benji followed Victor to his room. Victor kept carefully calculating his breaths. It would be fine. It was going to be fine. This was Benji. He loved Benji. 

It was going to be fine.

They sat on Victor’s bed together, silent.

“So,” Benji said awkwardly, “I don’t suppose you had plans for the rest of the night?”

Victor shook his head, staring at the floor, his hands tucked between his thighs. “Nope.”

In Victor’s peripheral vision, he saw Benji nodding slowly. “Cool.”

They sat like that for another moment before Victor turned to Benji, pulled his face close, and kissed him. 

Benji came alive under Victor’s hands, reaching for his waist immediately. Victor was starting to figure out, as their makeout sessions became more common, that Benji loved resting his hands on Victor’s hips. Sometimes he’d smooth his hands gently over Victor’s ass, squeezing lightly before coming back up. Victor very quickly learned his favorite place to keep his hands was knotted into Benji’s hair. He’d give a light tug every so often whenever he wanted to be a little more playful.

Tonight, though, he was feeling anything but. He slowly traced the line of Benji’s jaw with his thumbs, taking note of the softness of his lips, the way they moved against his. Sometimes Benji would ask questions with his kisses, an “is this okay?” or a “what about this?” Victor could sense each one, and Benji could always tell his answer. Benji never went farther than Victor was willing to go.

Their kisses were slowly becoming more heated, and it was very quickly becoming harder for Victor to breathe. Was this normal? Was this how he normally felt when he kissed Benji? Should he feel like this if they were about to… have sex?

Victor pulled away suddenly, gasping for air, squeezing his eyes tight. What was wrong with him? Anyone would do literally anything to get their hands on Benji Campbell, and Victor had him right there, and he couldn’t even have sex with him?  _ What was wrong with him? _

“Victor?” Benji asked, catching his breath. “You okay? Do you need a minute?”

“Fuck,” Victor whispered to himself, then said to Benji, “Just, uh, can we talk about this? Before we do it?”

Benji nodded and removed his hands from Victor’s hip, scooching back so there was more distance between them. Victor stared at the bedsheet between himself and Benji, and thought he’d really fucked up, because why was there so much space, and-- Benji was holding his hand. Not all hope was lost. Benji was holding his hand. 

“What is it, Victor?” Benji asked. He didn’t look upset or disappointed or angry; he just looked concerned. All Victor could think about were the scars on his skin. Could he really allow himself to be this vulnerable?

“I just… um… maybe we can talk? About this?”

Benji nodded. “Yeah. What specifically?”

Right. “Right.” Right. “I don’t want to… go too far. I don’t know what you’ve done, but I don’t wanna do… that stuff. Right now.”

Benji furrowed his brows, his head tilted in confusion. A lock of hair fell into his face; he was so very adorable. “What stuff? Like, penetration?”

Victor swallowed hard and nodded. Did everyone find it this hard to talk about things out loud? “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Benji said, nodding. “That’s okay. We don’t need to do anything like that yet.”

Victor breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” And maybe he was more of a masochist than he thought, because he blurted, “What have you done before?”

Benji’s eyes widened, more shock than anything else. Meanwhile, Victor cringed so hard he almost fell off the bed. He took his hand from Benji’s and used both of his to cover his face in embarrassment, which was undoubtedly bright red. “I am so sorry, Benji. I didn’t mean to say that, you don’t have to answer that.” Victor was a fuck up; he ruined the night, probably ruined everything, Benji wouldn’t want to be with him after tonight, it’d be terrible, he’d be all alone--

Benji pried one of Victor’s hands from his face. “It’s okay, Victor. I’ll tell you.”

Victor dropped his hands into his lap, his face still burning, refusing to lift his gaze back to Benji’s. He was a terrible boyfriend. God, Benji would be so much happier with Derek. 

“I have had sex with Derek before. Not many times, just a few.” Benji said. “I’ve never done anal or much penetration. That’s it. I’m still pretty new to this whole thing, too.”

Fuck, Victor really was a terrible boyfriend. Benji was going to break up with him once he went home. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Benji took Victor’s hands in his. “I love you, Victor, and if you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t ever want to push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want. We can just… go to sleep, okay?”

Victor finally looked at his boyfriend, looked at the care and concern in his eyes, the earnestness and honesty on his face, and he nodded. Benji would never hurt him. Benji loved him. He loved Victor for everything he was.

Maybe he knew Victor was afraid. Maybe he knew Victor was overwhelmed. Maybe he knew and understood that he was scared to trust people, but he trusted Benji anyway, and that terrified the living hell out of him. Maybe Benji knew Victor.

“I’d like that,” Victor whispered. “I’d like to go to sleep, if that’s okay?”

Benji nodded and gave him a light kiss. “Of course that’s okay. Just being able to hold you is the most I could ask for.” He kissed him again, a soft touch of his lips so loving and tender that Victor thought he might cry. He kissed him like Benji knew how breakable he truly was.

Victor lay down, getting comfortable under the sheets while Benji took off his jeans; Victor very deliberately looked the other way.

They curled up together, Benji’s arms wrapped securely around Victor, who was tucked into his chest. Victor closed his eyes and went to sleep.

***

He stood on the sidewalk, a red stain under his feet. He could remember the day that was from.

That day was now. 

His father was in front of him, bounding toward him.

It was pouring, but what fell from the skies wasn’t water; no, it was blood, dark and red. He didn’t know how he knew it, but it was his own blood falling from the skies. His own blood falling on the ground, enough blood for bodies and bodies and bodies and bodies.

Benji was in between them, looking at Victor with a smile. He was bleeding, and he was getting covered in Victor’s blood. Victor didn’t know how he knew this, either, but he knew he was the one who hurt Benji. He knew Benji was already dead.

Armando was running toward them, the sidewalk stretching between them for infinity. The sidewalk stretched for an inch. Infinity. Inch. Infinity.

_ Get out of the way _ , he tried to tell Benji, but his words stuck to his throat like taffy to wrappers.  _ He’s coming. Get out of the way. _

Benji waved. “Victor, it’s okay.” 

_ Benji, he’ll hurt you. Don’t let him hurt you. _

“I’m okay,” Benji said. “Victor, please, wake up.” He had his hands on his shoulders, soothing him with rubbing small circles in his skin with his thumbs. “Wake up, Vic. Please, baby, wake up.”

The sidewalk between him and Benji stretched on for an infinity. An inch. An infinity. An inch. An infinity.

There was so much blood raining from the skies.

Victor lurched forward in bed, crying out. Benji had his hands heavy on his shoulders, speaking soft words in his ear to placate him. Victor couldn’t open his eyes, there would be blood everywhere. There would be blood everywhere. There would be blood everywhere. 

Benji gathered him to his chest, rocking him back and forth, humming softly to placate him. “It’s okay, Victor,” He said between lines, “You’re safe. It was a dream. You’re safe.”

Benji sang through the same song three times before Victor could finally manage to open his eyes. There was no blood. There was nothing. There was just him, and there was just Benji. He was safe.

It took another five minutes to stop crying. Victor wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but it felt like it’d been for a while. When Benji thought Victor had calmed down enough, he asked softly, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

All Victor could manage to say was, “The sky was bleeding.” New tears welled in his eyes, and he let them fall. There was no way he and Benji could ever make it back from this horrid night. It’d been a mistake; it was all a mistake. Benji would break up with him by Monday. There was too much wrong with him. He’d break up with him that next morning. 

Benji rocked him again until his eyes dried, kissing his head and singing and talking. Victor listened to him, and felt the motions they took, and listened very carefully to the heart beating in Benji’s chest. He felt the most at peace that he possibly could. 

Benji put on Phineas and Ferb on his phone, sitting them up against the pillows so they could watch better. He kept nodding off, but Victor was watching with rapt attention. After an hour or two, Victor felt Benji’s breathing even out, and he knew he was asleep. Victor nestled closely to Benji’s chest, closed his eyes, and let the sounds of the show and Benji’s breathing lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Answer: no, probably not   
> *  
> pls give loves and internet affections


	13. Nuts and Bolts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I named it that, either, so pls don't ask
> 
> This spam of chapters was bc I wrote like 4 in one day and I always write one ahead of what's published so I wanted to get On Track   
> For my pal Amos what a guy what a man. we've been having some chats. a good dude.

Crazily enough, Benji did not break up with him that Saturday morning. He, instead, stayed with him all morning, patient with his morning rituals of looking around the house for Armando, just to be safe, just as he did every morning. He was patient with him as he struggled through brushing his teeth and eating breakfast despite the nausea, just as he did every morning. He was patient with him as he dissociated on the couch, in and out, in and out, just as he did every morning. He held him tight and gave him kisses and words of encouragement as he made it through each monumental task. He said he was proud of him when he finished something troublesome without crying, and even when he finished with tears. And, just as he did every morning, Benji was the first one to make him smile. 

Victor kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept waiting for Benji to pull him aside and tell him that this was the end. This was where he left. This was where they broke up. He’d say some cliched “it’s not you, it’s me” line, but they’d both know the truth. Victor was too fucked up to be loved. Benji tried, and he gave more than Victor was ever worth, but it could never work, because Benji was a whole person, and Victor wasn’t even half.

But there was no other shoe. There was no final goodbye, no apology. No “I can’t do this with you” coated in a sugary line to spare Benji the sight of Victor’s feelings. No distance. Just Benji and Victor, on the couch, like a normal Saturday. Victor dared not accept this as truth until Benji left after Victor finished eating with a thousand “I’m so proud of you”s nestled into each minute between the morning and now. There was no break up. No shattering disappointment. 

Victor checked; his gold was still there. He hoped Benji’s love, whatever color it may be, was still there, too. 

***

Tuesday afternoon was a normal afternoon at brasstown, too, believe it or not. He wasn’t sure when Felix and Lake had settled things, and he wasn’t sure if Lake had ever said anything about Felix’s admission, but whether she had or not, they were back together and happy as could be sitting at a small Brasstown table with Victor as they studied for the upcoming history test. Benji was behind the counter with Sarah, but every so often, Victor would catch Benji looking over at him with a soft look. 

Felix and Lake were being adorable and annoying and Victor was third wheeling incredibly hard, but he really didn’t mind. He was getting sick of the attention and he was just glad to see that, out of himself and his best friend, at least one of their relationships wasn’t doomed for disaster from the very start. 

Victor heard light footsteps behind him, and whirred around, ready to run. Benji was behind him with a wary smile, his hands up as if to say “easy.” “Relax, Vic,” he said, “it’s just me, baby.”

Lake cheered. “Yay, Benji is here!”

“Yeah, taking a ten,” Benji said. He pulled out a chair and sat next to Victor, immediately threading their fingers together and pulling their hands to his mouth to give Victor’s a kiss. Victor couldn’t imagine the level of heart eyes he must have had right then, looking at Benji, flushed and excited, unbelievably beautiful. 

He tuned out of the conversation, content to stare at their hands laced together as the time wore on. He was so lucky Benji still wanted him for now. He wanted to remember what it felt like to hold his hand like this when Benji moved on. 

“Benji,” Sarah called from behind the counter. A line stretched back to the door in front of her. “I need you back now.”

Benji checked his watch. “I still have six minutes!”

She gestured wildly to the crowd growing anxious in front of her, and Benji sighed. 

“Guess I’ll be heading back,” He said with an eye roll. He pecked Victor on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, baby.” And with that, he headed off behind the counter. 

Victor watched him in his element for a minute. He seemed serious, but he greeted every customer with a smile and a wave. Sarah was behind him making drinks like mad. The two together didn’t work nearly as well as Victor and Benji. 

“You guys are really cute together,” Lake said fondly, looking between Victor and Benji. 

Victor smiled softly and turned back to his friends. “Thanks.”

“Things must be progressing really well,” She said with a smirk. “And I’m sure he’s fantastic in… well, you know.” She winked. 

Felix rolled his eyes. “Really, Lake, what is it with you and him?”

Lake shrugged and Victor let out a shaky sigh. “Actually, I, uh, I wouldn’t know. We haven’t done anything yet.”

Lake furrowed her brows. “Okay, I totally don’t want to tell you what to do with your body, your body, your choice, but Victor,” she pressed her hands to the table, her fingers splayed out. “ _ What _ is holding you back?”

He sighed again. “Honestly? A lot. He has a lot of history with Derek, and he did stuff with him that I’m just not sure I can do yet. You know? I just don’t want to disappoint him. And with everything going on, what if he doesn’t love me like he says he does? What if things go south after it?”

Lake looked sympathetic. “Victor,” she said softly. “I get it. But that’s crazy. Benji loves you so much. He loves you just as much as you love him. Just like I love Felix as much as he loves me.”

Both Felix and Victor did double takes. “Wait,” Felix said, his straw falling from his mouth. “Did you just say you love me?”

Lake went red. “I did. I do.”

Felix’s puppy eyes were such a force right then, Victor almost had to look away. “You mean it?”

Lake nodded. “I do. I’m sorry I freaked out at first. I just… I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I just wasn’t sure what to do with it. I do though. I love you.”

Felix’s eyes were bright with love and adoration. “I love you.”

Lake leaned forward and kissed him. It was so tender and personal that Victor had to look away. 

He wished he had been able to have an “I love you” moment like that with Benji instead of what they’d actually gotten. Maybe they would be able to have something like that for their first time, something soft and gentle and loving and light. Something worth the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love? :)))))


	14. Where the Stars Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want y'all to know that I often now think about Call Me Maybe at least 5 times a day and it Hurts I just cannot do it also I rewatched the scene at the Spring Fling and wow I remember why this show is so good

Victor had been spending the last ten minutes debating whether he should ask Benji to stay the night again. Imply nothing, but this time do it right. Except, no matter what, he’d have a nightmare. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had such a bad one with Benji again. It was really the main thing holding him back from asking. He loved Benji, but between the nightmares and the scars, he wasn’t sure Benji would ever want to see him again if there was another trainwreck. 

As Victor was sweeping under a table that had sat a two-year-old with a croissant and a scone (thanks, Mom), Benji’s phone rang. He groaned; Victor paused and watched Benji shoot him an apologetic look before taking the call.

It really wasn’t considered eavesdropping. He was in the same room, just over there, talking quietly… Victor really couldn’t help but overhear.

“Derek,” Benji started, “you need to stop calling me. It’s weird.”

Victor wasn’t sure what his response was, but judging by the sound of Benji’s voice next, it wasn’t something good.

“I don’t love you anymore. I’m with someone else now.”

Victor felt his gold swell in his chest. He was that someone. Benji loved him. Not Derek, but _him_.

“Well, he makes me much happier than you ever did.”

Victor stared at the spot he’d been sweeping. Did he really make Benji happy? It didn’t seem like it sometimes. It only ever seemed like he made him as miserable as he himself was. 

“Yes, I mean it. Stop calling me. We’re not getting back together. And we’re much happier as a band _without you_. I’m not going back to you.”

Victor tuned the rest out. Benji wanted him. No matter what that meant, it was the truth. But Derek wanted Benji, too. There had to be some way to make sure Benji wouldn’t start wanting him back.

Benji finished up the phone call about ten minutes later. Victor had been sweeping the same spot for the last ten minutes; he hoped Benji didn’t notice.

“Sorry about that,” Benji said, grabbing his broom. “He keeps calling.”

Victor shrugged and swept the floor again. He thought about the phone call, the mess their relationship was, and how close he was to losing Benji. This was the only person who could ever love him; Victor needed to do something to keep him. He blurted, “Hey, I was thinking-- you wanna stay over tomorrow night? We have the writing part for the history exam on Monday and I’m still lost.”

Benji observed Victor very carefully. “You’re sure?”

Victor nodded, careful to keep his fears off his face. “You don’t have to. I just figured it’d be easier.”

A smile spread over Benji’s face. He was like the sun. God, his smiles really were some of Victor’s favorite things in the world. “I’d love to.”

“Good.” Victor pulled his phone from his pocket and texted his mom. 

**Hey** , he wrote, **can Benji stay the night tomorrow?**

He immediately got a response. 

**Ok. Same rules as last time. And remember, the walls are thin, Victor Salazar**

Victor bit his lip and texted back a quick, **Thanks!** and got back to work.

***

Despite what everyone may think, they did get quite a bit of studying done. Benji came over at noon, and they set a rule that every question wrong added another minute of no kissing. After this rule was set into motion, they both very quickly focused on getting the right answers.

At dinner, Isabel ordered pizza, and they talked a bit about the case. Isabel said that Armando had been apprehended and was officially in custody. They weren’t sure when the trial would start yet. Oddly enough, the idea of Armando waiting in jail only renewed some type of fear in Victor. What if they lost? What if Armando was set free?

Benji seemed to notice his unease and took his hand, squeezing three times. Victor forced the fog to dissipate and squeezed back. Isabel changed the topic to ask how studying was going. Victor was beyond grateful.

After they ate, Adrian corralled everyone into the living room. Victor tucked himself into Benji’s side under his arm, surrounding himself with the familiar feelings and smells of Benji Campbell. Benji kissed Victor’s head as they watched Adrian.

“I will need a volunteer,” Adrian said. 

Benji sat forward and smiled. “I can do it.”

Adrian held out a deck of cards. “Please inspect this completely normal deck of cards, and confirm that they are normal.”

Benji fought off a grin as well as he could and took the deck from Adrian. He inspected it lightly before nodding and giving them back. “Seems legit.”

Adrian shuffled the cards, not fantastically, but he was getting pretty good at it. It was much better than Victor could do. 

He fanned out the cards in his hands. “Please, my good sir, pick a card.”

Benji was trying his best to fight off his smile, but he couldn’t do it. He was beaming to himself as he waved his hand over the deck, seemingly deep in thought. Victor watched carefully, trying desperately to carve this memory of Benji with his little brother into the garden of his brain, somewhere he could tend to and come back to when Benji wouldn’t be around anymore to make new memories.

He picked a card with a flourish, and Adrian put the rest of the deck away. 

“Please, my trusty volunteer, show the audience your card.”

Benji held the card out to Pilar and Isabel to see, then leaned over so Victor could see. 8 of diamonds. 

Adrian said, “Please hold it out, and I will guess what your card is.”

Benji did as he was told, glancing over at Victor. He was so clearly amused, and Victor once again took a picture of this moment for his special memory garden, another perfect rose with an excess of pedals and deep, dark colors. 

Adrian put his fingers to his temples, audibly breathed out a sharp breath, and focused intently on the card. “Is your card… the eight… of diamonds?”

Isabel gasped, and Victor and Benji laughed. Even Pilar smiled with delight. “It is!” Benji said.

“How did you do that?” Isabel asked, astonished.

“Please, ma’am, hold all questions until the end,” Adrian said, earning a laugh from everyone. “My good sir,” he pulled his deck out, “please put your eight of diamonds back in the deck.” 

Benji did. Adrian reshuffled the cards, then fanned them out again. “Please pull a card and show the audience.”

Benji pulled another card, this time schooling his face into some semblance of seriousness. He leaned over first so Victor could see; Ace of Spades. He showed Isabel and Pilar.

“Please insert it back into the deck.”

After Benji put it back, Adrian reshuffled the cards, then pulled one at random and showed everyone. Ace of Spades. He didn’t even look the whole time. “Is this your card?”

Benji’s jaw drifted open in shock. Another mental picture for the roses. “How did you do that?”

Adrian held up a hand to silence him and put the card back in the deck. He took the iPad from the coffee table and handed it to Benji. “Is _this_ your card?”

Benji raised a brow and opened the iPad case, staring in shock as the screen lit up. “What the f…”

Victor leaned over to see the Ace of Spades as the lock screen. Pilar and Isabel leaned over, too. Isabel laughed in shock. “How did you do this, Adrian?”

All he said was, “A magician never reveals his secrets,” and bowed. Everyone on the couch burst into applause, and Adrian smiled with pure delight, then squealed with joy. “I’m so glad that went well!”

“It really did,” Isabel said nodding, still completely surprised. “I wanna know how you did that.”

Adrian just shrugged. “ _Magic_.”

Isabel laughed again. “Well, my little magician, it is time to get you to bed.” 

Victor glanced at the iPad opened on Benji’s lap and pressed the home button so the screen lit up. It was almost 9:00. 

“We should be heading to bed, too,” Victor said. 

Benji nodded. “Yeah, I’m beat. My brain is fried.”

“Goodnight!” Isabel called as she took Adrian by the hand. “Remember Victor! Thin walls!”

Pilar sighed. “I wish I had a boyfriend to fool around with in my room at night.”

Victor drowned out the following reprimand from Isabel and led Benji to his room. He was ready. He could do this. 

The second the door closed, Victor’s lips were on Benji’s. He was spurred on by the love he felt for him that night, the ease with which Benji took care of him last weekend, the reassurance from Lake that Benji would still love him. Benji smiled against Victor’s lips and walked them to the bed, his hands on Victor’s hips. He spun them suddenly and dropped onto the bed so Victor was in his lap. Victor pushed him back so he was laying down, and followed suit, resting his body on Benji’s, pressing down with his pelvis just enough onto Benji’s so there was some friction. Benji let out a low groan into Victor’s mouth. He could do this tonight. He would. He was in love with Benji. This was the boy that was worth the world.

He was straddling Benji’s lap, grinding down, his hands on the bed by either side of Benji’s face holding himself up, both of them getting hard, and it seemed so easy. Just take off their clothes, use hands, kiss. Just keep kissing Benji. Victor could live the rest of his life kissing Benji Campell and he would die the happiest man in the world. 

Benji’s hands were tight on Victor’s waist, his fingers digging into his skin, helping guide his hips as Benji took control. He thrusted up, opening Victor's mouth with his tongue. Victor whimpered, something small and needy and he needed more, much more, right now. 

He lowered himself to his elbows and let one hand slide under Benji’s shirt, moaning once he felt Benji’s skin. He slowly moved his hand up, up over Benji’s abs. Benji was so warm under him. God, _yes_ , Victor was ready. He wanted Benji more than anything. He needed him. 

He broke the kiss and sat up, grabbing at the hem of Benji’s t-shirt. “Off,” He said, and Benji complied, raising himself up as much as he could with Victor still straddling his lap, helping Victor get his shirt off. And for a second, all Victor could do was stare. 

Benji was so very beautiful. 

He had himself raised onto his elbows, shirtless, his black necklace hanging loosely over his collar bones, his hair falling artfully into his face. In the low light of Victor’s bedroom, he looked damn ethereal.

Benji reached up, took Victor by the back of his neck, and brought him down to kiss him again. 

Victor loved running his hand over the newly exposed skin of Benji’s stomach, his chest, his back. He was so fucking beautiful. Fuck, he was so gorgeous. His skin was so very soft, and his arms were so strong. He wrapped an arm around Victor’s waist and pulled him down as he thrusted up. Victor whined into Benji’s mouth; since when was he so needy like this?

Victor remembered being with Mia, taking control in her room, how wrong it felt to kiss her with the intentions of sex. How wrong it felt to kiss her with her back to the wall, his hands on either side of her head, taking control. This felt so right now, Benji taking care of him as they kissed, slowly leading them towards their final destination. Victor ached for it all over, wanted to speed up their movements, but everything felt so good it seemed like he’d be betraying himself if he did anything like that.

Benji licked his way inside Victor’s mouth, taking control of their kiss, every dominant cell in his body telling Victor to relax, to hand over the reins, he was safe. Benji would take care of him. 

So, Victor did.

Benji’s hands traced over Victor’s ass, up and down, sliding into his jeans’ pockets and squeezing his butt gently. Victor groaned as quietly as he could. 

And then, Benji slid his hands up, up, up, under Victor’s shirt and over the lowest scar on Victor’s back, and _no_ , Victor could not do this. 

It was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on him. He jumped away, almost falling directly onto his ass on the floor. He was spewing out apologies, his throat getting tight, and Benji just seemed very confused. Victor didn’t blame him. 

He just couldn’t let Benji see how broken he truly was.

Victor had scars everywhere. He had scars on his chest and his back and his stomach and his crotch just above his dick, and these were all things Benji was not supposed to see. He had one scar on his cheek, and wasn’t that enough? Was Benji really supposed to be subject to all of Victor’s malformed skin?

Benji took his hands, pressing kisses to the backs of them as Victor stood, helplessly trying not to cry. “It’s okay, Vic,” he said softly. “It’s okay, baby, just breathe.”

And he was being so kind and Victor was so messed up. Surely this time Benji would see he wasn’t worth it. This had to be the end. Who plans on having sex and freaks out when their partner of many months tries to take their shirt off? A fuckup, that’s whom. 

Victor was pathetic. There was something so very wrong with him. He was a mistake. He never should’ve done this, he never should’ve had a boyfriend, he never should’ve been born. 

He should just die. Victor should just die. 

Benji reached up and stroked the tears away from Victor’s face. “Victor, it’s okay,” he said softly. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. We don’t have to do anything ever if you don’t want.”

And wasn’t this just the cherry on top? Benji, here, shirtless and still half hard, being completely understanding and kind. Victor didn’t deserve it. He deserved nothing except death.

“Victor,” Benji said softly. “C’mere.”

Victor sat next to him, keeping his distance. Benji was such a good boyfriend; he made Victor lunch and pushed nothing and didn’t do anything Victor didn’t want to do, and Victor couldn’t even give anything back. Benji deserved so much better than Victor. Benji deserved so much better than a sham of a man. 

“Victor, Listen to me very closely.” Benji said, wiping away his tears. “You went through a lot, okay? You were violated in a lot of ways that weren’t fair to you. You were hurt in one of the worst ways possible. I get it. I really do. And there are things I can’t ever understand, the nightmares, trusting, all the fear all the time. I can never really understand what that’s like for you. But, Vic, I love you. And I will do anything I can for you. Even if that means we remain celibate for the rest of our lives, even if that means you never wanna see me again. If it makes you happy, I will do it.” He pressed his forehead to Victor’s, closing his eyes. “You deserve so much more than what you got, baby. You deserve the world.” He sighed and stroked his cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “It’s okay, Vic. I will always be here for you. Whatever pace you want us to go at, I’m there. Okay?”

Benji was too good. Benji deserved better than someone who couldn't even make him happy. 

Victor nodded. “Okay.”

Benji nodded, too, and pressed a gentle kiss to Victor’s lips. “Okay. I’m gonna go to the bathroom and fix this--” they each chuckled “--so why don’t you get ready for bed? I meant what I said last time. If all we do is cuddle, I’m happy.”

Victor swallowed and kissed Benji again. “Okay.”

***

Benji was below him, bleeding out. Victor couldn’t find the wound. It was raining blood. There was so much blood, so much everywhere. Victor couldn’t find the wound. He needed to stop Benji’s bleeding, but his own blood was raining from the skies so hard and so fast that it was impossible finding the source of Benji’s bleeding. 

With his last breath, Benji whispered, “You did this.”

Victor woke, his eyes opening in a flash to the darkness of his bedroom. He was afraid to move. If he moved, Benji would be dead.

But Benji was sound asleep next to him, his breathing heavy as he slept. He snored a little with the angle he was sleeping at. 

Benji was snoring; he was safe.

Victor, with tremendous effort, turned his head and looked at Benji. 

He was certainly asleep, the outline of his necklace visible under the gray t-shirt he slept in. Victor, without thinking, traced the line of Benji’s necklace. He moved in his sleep, and Victor froze. But Benji stayed asleep. He stopped snoring. 

Very, very carefully, Victor tucked himself under Benji’s arm, resting his head on the soft part of his chest, right over his heart. Benji, in his sleep, curled around Victor, muttering, “I’ll keep you safe, Vic.”

Victor’s heart warmed, and he relaxed. Benji would never be hurt. His father would never hit him like that. Benji would keep him safe. He would always love Victor. And Victor would always love him. 

And with that, Victor closed his eyes, and allowed the sound of Benji’s careful breaths and beating heart send him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter literally makes me so fucking happy y'all don't understand anyway pls love me? uwu


	15. I'm Trying my Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just,,,, idk. Love. so soft.

Brasstown was unusually dead for a Tuesday afternoon. Victor knew it was getting closer to finals week, and everyone must’ve been cramming a whole year's worth of information into just two short months of non stop studying. But normally people were studying there, or taking a breather at the tables, or maybe getting their coffees to go. Maybe they’d get themselves a special treat as consolation for putting themselves through wild torture so they could pass high school with decent grades. 

But today, there were maybe two people in the dining room, occupying two tables on their own, noses deep in textbooks and notebooks and scribbles of nonsense in the lines pages. Victor thought he recognized one of them as the senior class president, her smooth blue dress fanned out over her lap as she sipped distractedly on her cappuccino. The other was a kid who looked like he belonged on the football team with a tall, muscular build and an angry resting face. 

Benji came up behind Victor and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I can only clean the same appliances so many times before I go insane,” he complained. He smiled into Victor’s t-shirt and pressed a careful kiss to his shoulder. “I could use some distractions.”

“Hm,” Victor said, trying to hide his smile. He covered Benji’s hands with his own. “Well, you could restock the case.” He gestures to the snack case, which was almost completely full. 

Benji pretended to think. “I think that I’d prefer to do something… else…”

Victor chuckled and turned his head so he could kiss Benji. “Was that more what you were thinking?”

“A little…” Benji said with a smirk. He leaned forward, trying to get another kiss, but Victor leaned away, biting his lip. Benji feigned offense. “How dare you!”

Victor laughed, dancing away from Benji’s reach. Benji started after him, trying to grab him by the hips. 

Victor saw a customer out of the corner of his eye and jogged to the register, catching his breath. “Hi, sorry about that. What can I… get… you…?”

He stared up at Derek, who was glaring at him so viciously he could level a building. “Maybe my boyfriend back.”

Victor wasn’t sure what to say. “I, uh...”

“I’m not your boyfriend anymore,” Benji cut in. “I’m with Victor now. Come on, it’s been months, let it go, Derek.”

Derek visibly bristled. “I’m  _ so _ sorry if I’m a little upset that this kid just comes in and single-handedly takes my boyfriend and breaks up my band.”

“That had nothing to do with Victor and you and I both know that,” Benji shot back. Victor felt wildly uncomfortable. He was not supposed to be here for this conversation. “Why don’t you just pay for your drink and get out of here.”

“He hasn’t ordered…?” Victor said, beyond confused. 

Before Derek could even open his mouth, Benji spewed, “Large nonfat mocha latte with almond milk, no whip.” 

Victor looked between them both. Something softened in both of their faces. 

Benji still had Derek’s order memorized. 

Derek smiled softly. “Do you still have the photo album?”

Benji nodded, but otherwise said nothing.

Derek’s smile widened. Victor felt sick. “See?” Derek said. “We’re good together.”

Victor bit his lip as hard as he could to stop it from quivering. Fuck, this was going to be it. Benji had a real, whole person in front of him, someone as real and whole as he was. Someone who wanted him the way Victor wanted him. But someone who was better than Victor in every way. Someone who could love him like he deserved. 

He bit down on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. Why did Benji still have the photo album? What was in it? Why didn’t he get rid of it? 

Victor cleared his throat, but it didn’t keep his voice from cracking as he said, “Your total is $6.85.”

Derek nodded and paid, and Benji got started on his drink. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Victor told him. 

Benji gave him a strange look, and Victor wondered if he saw the devastation in his face. “Okay,” he said carefully. 

Victor rushed to the restroom, barely able to choke back a sob. His relationship was a fucking sham. He wasn’t supposed to be happy. He wasn’t supposed to have someone who loved him. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to die on the sidewalk all those weeks ago. He wasn’t supposed to have Benji. He wasn’t supposed to have a happy ending, fake as it was. There was no happily ever after for people like him. Benji would go back to Derek and Victor would be left alone and Armando would fine him again and he’d die and no one would care. Benji was probably getting bad with Derek right now as Victor sat there, crying like the coward he was. 

What photo album? Why the fuck would Benji keeep it? 

The bathroom door opened and someone crouched in front of him. 

“Victor, I love you,” Benji told him. “That’s it. I love you so much. I don’t care about Derek. I broke up with him for you. And I don’t regret that. He used to get that drink every damn day for the whole year I dated him. And I haven’t deleted the album yet because there are some pictures I want to keep. I just never go through it. I’m over Derek. I swear.”

Victor dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “But you shouldn’t be.” He said. “You shouldn’t be with me. You shouldn’t be done with him. You shouldn’t try to love someone that’s broken.”

Benji put both his hands on Victor’s knees. “You are not broken.” He tucked his fingers underneath Victor’s chin. His voice was so stern. “Do you understand me? You are not broken, Victor. Not even a little bit. Yeah, you have nightmares, and yeah, maybe your mental health is currently not the best, but Victor, you are  _ not _ broken. Do you understand me?”

Victor wiped his face. He didn’t, not in the least, but maybe he’d get to keep Benji a bit longer if he agreed, so he nodded. “Okay. But what if you decide you want me anymore?”

Benji scoffed. “Impossible. Look at you. You’re the best guy in the world. I am so, so lucky to have you.” Benji pressed his forehead to Victor’s, their noses touching. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Victor whispered, eyes closed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Benji said, cupping Victor’s face. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if your ex came around wanting to get back together. You’re handling this much better than I ever would.”

Victor laughed in spite of himself. “Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “Is anyone out front?”

Benji nodded and leaned back on his haunches. “Yeah, Sarah. She was not happy. I think she thought we were coming in here to fool around.”

Victor scrunched his nose. “Ugh, like we’d have sex on the clock in a public bathroom.”

Benji tilted his head. “I mean, I think she watches the tapes sometimes. I’m pretty sure she’s seen the tapes from… that night. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Victor covered his face with his hands, embarrassed. “Oh, my God, please stop talking.”

Benji laughed. “Come on, we should get back.” He stood and offered a hand to help Victor to his feet. He took it and checked his appearance in the mirror--his face looked a little puffy, but nothing too major--and they headed back out to finish their shift. 

Derek was gone, and once again, for now, Benji was Victor’s. And Victor would take that for as long as he could. 

***

Lake’s laughter was contagious. It didn’t matter what it was for, if Lake was laughing, anyone around her was, too. And right now, Felix was doing a pretty spot-on impression of John Mulaney, and Lake was in stitches. All it did was make Victor simultaneously miss Benji while he worked his Saturday shift and have a new admiration for his friend, but Lake’s sweet giggle was enough to have Victor gasping for breath.

Things weren’t weird. Victor was expecting awkward. He was expecting fighting. He was expecting disappointment, and sadness. Instead, all he had was a warm purple feeling in his chest as he sat with Mia and Andrew on one side of the food court table, Felix and Lake on the other. 

Mia leaned into Andrew with a sigh as everyone gathered themselves together. “That’s seriously crazy, Felix. How’d you get so good at impressions?”

Felix shrugged, beaming with pride. “I don’t know. I was socially awkward as a kid. I thought that’s how you make friends.”

Andrew laughed, though there was no malice or malintent there. “Just as a kid?”

Felix scoffed. “I’ll have you know I’m a whole meme in Japan, so…”

This earned another round of laughs from everyone around the table. Victor’s stomach hurt from the force of it. “Oh, my God,” he said through another fit of giggles, “I can’t take it, please.”

Mia threw an arm around him, laughing. “I think Victor’s dying!”

Victor nodded, knuckling tears from his eyes. “I think so, too.”

Mia calmed everyone down, and they all did their best to stifle their laughs. Andrew tried to take a sip of his Coke. But one look around the table from Lake, and a small giggle bubbled out of her mouth, and the rest of the table broke down. Andrew spewed soda all over the table, sending everyone further into their fits of hysteria. Mia tried her best to wipe up the mess with some napkins, but the soda had gotten on there, too, and tears were blurring her vision too much. She gave up and slumped against Victor, crying-laughing with the rest of them. An elderly couple threw them a vicious look from the table next to theirs, and gathered their things to move to another table. This just made everyone laugh even harder. 

Victor hadn’t laughed this hard in so long; he wished Benji were there so they could share the moment with him, too. 

Mia and Lake left the table a while after to calm down in the bathroom and fix their makeup. Felix followed suit, saying if he laughed anymore without using the bathroom there’d be a whole new nickname he wouldn’t be particularly fond of. Andrew and Victor stayed at the table, sipping on their drinks to calm down. Victor wiped his tears away from his eyes and did his best to clean up the table without knocking over his lemonade.

“I’m not sure just napkins will work anymore, Salazar,” Andrew said, his voice hoarse. 

Victor looked at the table and snickered softly. “Yeah, probably not.”

Andrew gave him a look. It wasn’t bad; no, it was actually quite pleasant. He regarded him slowly, a warm smile on his face. “Bet you wish Benji were here, huh?”

Victor sighed and nodded. “I’ve been with him so much these last couple months. And there hasn’t been too much to be happy about that doesn’t have to do with him. It’s just weird being so happy without him.” He bit his lip. “Sorry if that’s weird. You were probably just asking to be polite, huh?”

Andrew shook his head. “You’re my friend, Salazar, you and Benji both. Just want to make sure you’re both… good.”

Victor smiled softly. “Yeah, we’re good. I mean, as good as we can be with all…” He waved his hand around vaguely. “All this stuff going on.”

Andrew seemed to grow a bit more solemn. “Yeah, I bet it’s still pretty hard on you both. You said he was arrested? There’s a trial going, right?” Victor nodded. Andrew winced with a sharp intake of air through his teeth. “That’s gotta be hard.”

Victor nodded again, staring at the empty seat between them. “It really will be. I just can’t stop thinking about what will happen if they think he’s innocent. He’ll be free, and he’ll be angry. What if he kills me?”

Andrew gave him a heavy look. “There is no way in hell I will ever let that happen. You’ve got the whole team behind you. No one will ever let him do that to you again. And I’m sure Benji will never let you out of his damn sight ever again if he can help it.”

Victor chuckled softly. “Yeah, probably not. He’s very protective now.”

Andrew laughed, too, nodding. He seemed fond. “Yeah. You know the whole motherly strength? A mother could lift a car off her baby? That’s like him with you.”

Victor cringed, and Andrew laughed again. “I don’t like that you’re insinuating he’s like my mom.”

Andrew only laughed harder. 

Felix slid back into his seat just as the girls arrived back. “Hey,” he said, wrapping an arm around Lake as she sat down. “Whatcha talking about?”

Andrew took a sip of his drink. “Salazar’s boyfriend’s motherly instincts.”

The three looked a little lost, but Andrew and Victor just laughed again.  _ Wow _ , Victor thought,  _ I guess Andrew and I have inside jokes now. _

Lake stared at them, then looked at Victor with renewed interest. “Victor! I almost forgot to ask! How was the sex with Benji? Was he as good as I thought he’d be?”

Mia had an unreadable look on her face at first, then turned to Victor for an answer. Andrew looked at him as well, though he looked more amused than anything. Felix was quietly berating Lake for asking, but she shushed him and leaned forward to hear Victor’s answer. All eyes were on him; he took another sip of his lemonade to avoid answering for at least another second. 

“Actually,” he said, trying his best to hide his embarrassment, “we still haven’t had… sex.”

Lake leaned back in her seat, throwing her hands up in frustration. “ _ Why _ , Victor, do you want to lose him, too?”

Victor blanched and Felix chastised her once again. Andrew said, “I don’t think that will happen.”

“Why not?” Lake asked. “If his needs aren’t being fulfilled, you think he won’t go somewhere else?”

Andrew gave her a sharp look. 

“ _ What? _ Do you want me to lie?”

Victor swallowed heavily. “I don’t really, um…” He took a shaky breath. “I just… there’s a lot of scars. Everywhere.”

Lake softened. “From… spring break?”

He nodded, staring at his cup, running his thumbs through the condensation on the sides. He’d gotten a medium, and it was already half empty. He would want another. Or he’d have to use the restroom soon. Probably both. Hopefully either one, so he could get away from this dastardly conversation.

“Victor,” She said softly. She covered his hand with hers. “You know Benji won’t care about that, right? If you do anything, which you of course don’t have to, he’s not going to see the scars. He’s just going to look at you, and all he’ll see… is you.”

Victor bit his lip and looked up. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I don’t?”

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, trying his best to push back his tears. His throat was getting tight; he should take a sip of his lemonade to relax. He didn’t. “I just… every time I see them, I just get so… I don’t know. I hate them. I had to have a lot of stitches and they all left a lot of scars. The doctor said they’d probably never fully fade. They’re so… obvious. I hate looking at myself. They’re always there.” He sighed and put his lips around his straw. Once the lemonade hit his tongue, he immediately regretted it. It felt like acid in his mouth. “I mean, what if I’m never comfortable with my body again? What if I can never look at myself again without wanting to throw up?” His voice got quiet. “What if Benji sees them and he isn’t comfortable looking at me?”

Lake sighed. “I get it, Victor. I do. But Benji loves you. Anyone can see that. Honestly, sometimes sitting in Brasstown is sickening because he can’t stop looking at you… like  _ that _ . He really, really loves you. And he won’t care what you look like. He won’t care if you have one scar or a thousand. And you can and will learn to love your body again, Victor. It’s your skin. It means you’re alive. You will come to love yourself just as you are. And when you do, no matter what happens, Benji will be right there with you, clothes on or off. I know it.”

Victor turned his hand over under hers and squeezed it lightly. On reflex, he squeezed three times. And, like she knew exactly what it meant, she squeezed back. One, two, three. “It’s gonna be hard.” He said.

She nodded. “Damn right it will. And we will all be here, cheering you on like the best friends we are.”

VIctor smiled. Mia softly knocked her shoulder into Victor’s. “We will be,” She said. “I love you, Victor. You’re amazing.”

Andrew reached over and patted his shoulder. “Hell, yeah. And, hey, you ever want someone to clear your mind with some ball, I’m there.”

Felix smiled at him with his tiny smile lines and crooked grin and big puppy eyes. “You already know, Victor.” He furrowed his brows, serious. “But I am still your best friend, right?”

Everyone laughed, and Victor shook his head. “No. You’re my brother.”

Victor glanced down at his and Lake’s hands together, and noticed a small silver ring on her index finger. It had seven gems in it, each a different color. Pink, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. 

He smiled. “I like your ring.” 

She glanced down at it and pulled her hand away, slipping it off and observing it. “Oh, yeah. Thanks. I got it at a little farmers’ market a few towns over.” She glanced up at Victor, then slipped it onto his pinky. He opened his mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Please. I have so much jewelry. Just… when you wear it, remember that we love you. And you are perfect, whether you have no scars or a thousand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. pls? comments? :)) thanks


	16. Know Thyself, Accept Thyself, Love Thyself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two and a half men theme song but instead of "men" it's "red"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been excited for this chapter for a really really really long time, I hope you guys like it

Victor lay on his bed, his arm thrown over his eyes. He’d just gotten home from an exhausting day of school and work, and his whole body was still buzzing with energy. 

After he’d come home that afternoon after spending the day at the mall, he’d found one of his mom’s old silver necklaces and took the pendant off, slipping Lake’s ring on and clasping it around his neck. Every time he thought about it or touched it, a sharp zing of happiness shot through his chest. He had six colors, six loves, and seven gems to prove it. God, he loved his friends with all the purple he had in him, all the purple in this ring, all the purple in the world. Everything was beautiful. And it was keeping him awake.

He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. He noticed a tiny scar on his wrist. It was an old one from when he’d used a knife on his own for the first time. He was really little, and he was trying to cut a carrot, but he used the wrong knife. It had gotten him pretty deep. He really wasn’t sure why it had scarred, but there it was, a permanent reminder that he was a bit of an idiot at age six.

He stared at the scar, so small and faint, so impossibly innocent. What about the ones on his back? What about his chest? His stomach? His pelvis? Could he ever forgive himself for those?

Instead of debating the topic with himself any further, he pulled up Simon’s DM’s and crafted a message that was more a plea than anything.

**Hey, Simon.**

**So, I’ve sort of been forgetting a lot to clue you in on what’s going on with Benji. Everything with the trial and the nightmares and school, I guess it slipped my mind that I still have no clue how to be a boyfriend.**

**Okay. So Benji and I have been… trying. To have sex. And it’s not going well. I keep screwing it up. I don’t really know what to do. I really love Benji, but I don’t know how to feel comfortable.**

**The thing is, I have a lot of scars. And Benji doesn’t know, and I’m so scared to tell him. He has already put up with so much with me, my nightmares, literally freaking out while we were making out, I really don’t know if he’ll be able to deal with the scars on top of everything. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if he can’t go through with it because of the scars. Or if he doesn’t look at me. I don’t know if I could deal if he looks at me after so much work to get here and then he doesn’t like what he sees. I think I’d chuck myself into a river. And he’s been so good. I don’t want to disappoint him.**

**I just… I know none of you are too well versed in this whole thing with scars and whatever, so I won’t really ask for advice. I just don’t know what to do. I hate seeing them so much. They remind me so much of everything, and they’re so pale and ugly and just. Terrible. I hate them. And I know Benji won’t really like seeing them, either.**

**Simon, I don’t know what to do. I’m literally crying typing this because I don’t know what to do. I can’t even look at myself now without feeling so disgusted by myself. And I don’t know what to tell Benji every time I stop us. I don’t think I ever thought of how good it felt seeing him shirtless. But the idea of him seeing me shirtless? It feels like I’m trying to swallow sand.**

**I just want to feel normal. I just want to be a normal kid who doesn’t overthink putting on a shirt everyday because what if my scars show? I want to be normal and not worry everyday about my boyfriend not loving me because what if I’m unlovable? What if I can’t do it? What if I keep letting him down? I want to just be fucking normal and stop overthinking having sex with my boyfriend who loves me, and whom I love, and just do it for that reason only. I want to stop hurting all the time. I don’t know how to stop. It feels like it’s tearing me apart.**

**Nothing is right anymore. I can’t stop wondering why Benji is with me. I’m always thinking about when he’ll eventually get tired of me and leave. I feel like barely part of a person, Simon. I feel like something is wrong with me. Maybe something is wrong with me.**

**I don’t know. I just can’t stop hating myself anymore. I just feel so unworthy. Unworthy of Benji, my friends, my family, all of you in NYC. It’s exhausting trying to be better than I am so no one leaves me. I’m just waiting for everyone to give up on me. It’s bound to happen soon, right?**

**I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore.**

**Victor**

Victor hit the send button one last time, then threw his phone away from him. He was sobbing full-on, big ugly sobs that he was trying desperately to keep down. He loved his family, but the last thing he wanted to explain to any of them was his problems with having sex with his boyfriend. He was sure he’d never have that conversation with anyone other than his friends and everyone up in NYC. And only his friends because Lake is so insistent.

He got a message not too long after.

**Hey, Vic.**

**Everyone over here is hurting for you. We love you so much. You’re such an amazing person. We wish you could see that.**

**We know it’s different, but Justin had dealt with some repercussions from the trauma he experienced growing up. He had a lot of nightmares about his family, about Hell. It took a long time for him to trust people. It makes sense. When someone who is supposed to love you, hurts you, that runs deep. It runs much deeper than any scar they could give you.**

**And about the scars, Victor, we know Benji. You know Benji. Everyone knows Benji. He will light the world on fire to keep you safe. He punched a dangerous homophobe in the face for you, almost on two separate occasions.**

**Benji is not dumb, and he will understand that, from what we all remember seeing you look like that night, you’d have some scars. He’ll see them, and he’ll understand.**

**Victor, listen. I learned this the hard way: you will never feel comfortable showing Benji your body if you yourself aren’t comfortable with your body. If you don’t accept that skin as your skin, that body as your body, you will never feel secure enough to show it to someone you love. You need to learn to love yourself before you let someone else love you. You will never feel comfortable if you don’t accept those scars as your skin. That is the skin that kept you alive.**

**We love you so much, Victor. You deserve all the good the world can give you.**

**You are not part of a human. You are whole. You have always been whole, and you always will be whole.**

**Don’t chuck yourself into a river. You won’t need to. Benji will love you. Everyone will love you. We all already do. We just need you to love yourself. And then you’ll have the whole package.**

**You’ve got this, Victor. And, if you have any questions on gay sex, don’t hesitate to ask us. Please don’t consult the internet. You have three gay guys right here with enough experience that you very much do not need to go to mysterious websites with questionable answers on incognito mode. I am literally begging you. Don’t do it. You’ll miss so much info you’ll definitely need.**

**We love you, Victor. More than anything.**

**Love, Simon, Bram, Justin, Ivy, Kim**

Victor read through the messages three times. 

_You will never feel comfortable showing Benji your body if you yourself aren’t comfortable with your body. If you don’t accept that skin as your skin, that body as your body, you will never feel secure enough to show it to someone you love. You need to learn to love yourself before you let someone else love you. You will never feel comfortable if you don’t accept those scars as your skin._

It made sense. It completely made sense. 

On a whim, Victor stood up and stripped. He threw his clothes into the laundry basket, and in the lamp light in his room, he stood in front of his mirror and looked at himself.

All over his body were little pale patches where he’d been hurt the worst, stitched up and sealed back together. He studied himself carefully, his fingers grazing over each scar he could see. He turned so he could see as much of the scars on his back as possible. All the while, Lake’s ring was glistening at the base of his throat.

The scars were so very obvious against his darker complexion. There was no way to miss them; he was covered in scars from head to toe, back to front. 

He was hurt so much by two bare hands. 

Victor thought back to that day, how much it hurt, how sure he was that he was going to die right then. But he didn’t die. He was so very alive. His scars were there to prove it. There was no reason he should’ve, but he’d beaten Armando; he lived. He lived in this skin. 

He counted all of them that he could see. Forty-seven scars. Two fists, hundreds of punches. An eternity shoved into just a few minutes. A lifetime of changes in such little time.

Did Armando regret what he did? Did it even matter?

Victor stared at himself, naked and healing. 

No. Not healing.

Healed. 

Victor Salazar had healed.

He didn’t notice the tears on his cheeks until he looked up and saw them in his reflection. He didn’t wipe them away; he was vulnerable, and he was open, and he was happy.

His scars were ugly. They were clear, painful reminders of the worst days of his life. Of the fact that he was alive.

They were his skin. 

This was his skin now. This was what he looked like right now. And maybe that was okay. That meant he was alive.

Something happened then. Victor hadn’t even really noticed it was missing, but now that it was there, he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought he could live his whole life without it. 

As bright as fire, as dark as blood, as beautiful as a rose, as precious as a ruby, red flowed through him. It sung in his veins, in his scars, in his tears. It fell into place between the pink and orange, nestled into the colors of Victor Salazar, right where it belonged. Right where it should have been this whole time. 

And this time, it wasn’t for someone else. It wasn’t from someone else. This was love for himself.

Finally, Victor was whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love y'all pls comment


	17. A Bird or a Bee?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))) y'all have been waiting for it, I know it, y'all nasty

**Hey you wanna stay over tonight? Mom’s making her special specialty**

***

**Uhhhhh idk wtf that means but sure I’m in**

***

“Okay, so when you said special specialty, you literally just meant pizza?”

Victor smiled and shoved his first slice into his mouth. “Yeah.”

Benji rolled his eyes. “Okay, babe.”

The pet name made Victor’s smile widen, and their family ate in silence. After a while, Isabel asked Benji about school and they launched into a long conversation about finals. Benji hinted at the case, and the conversation veered right into discussion about the upcoming trial. They’d hired a lawyer who’d worked cases similar to this. Isabel said her name was Anna Hirsch. Victor was not looking forward to the day he met her. He still wanted to believe that this wasn’t happening. Nothing happened. Vicor was just home. He never even had a dad, what do you mean?

After a little while, it was almost eight o’clock, and Victor was starting to get antsy. He wanted Benji under his hands again. He wanted to be with him. He wanted to do this. He would do this.

Eventually, Isabel sent Adrian to shower and get ready for bed. Victor took that as his cue to get Benji out. Benji complied, following Victor to his bedroom. 

_Finally._

They sat on Victor’s bed, getting comfortable against the headboard. Victor brought Benji close to him and kissed him slowly. He loved kissing Benji so much. Anything Benji-related was very quickly becoming all of his favorite things in the world. Like a weird version of ‘Favorite Things’ from the Sound of Music.

Benji pulled away slowly. “Victor,” he said, “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do this.”

Victor shook his head. “I don’t. I want to.”

Benji pressed their foreheads together, nuzzling his nose against Victor’s. “I love you, Vic, and I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready to do, and I don’t think you’re ready to do this.”

Victor shook his head again. “Benji, that’s not it. I… I just have a lot of scars. They’re really obvious, and I was ashamed of them.” He bit his lip, stroking Benji’s jaw. “But, I’m not ashamed anymore. And I want to do this with you.”

Benji pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. I mean, are you sure you’re ready? I don’t want you freaking out on me again. And I get it, the scars, but if they upset you that much…”

Victor took Benji’s hands in his. “I know. I know it’s a lot, and I am still kind of scared. I don’t want to go too far just yet. But I think I want to do this with you.”

Benji’s expression was resolute. He shook his head. “‘Think’ is not enough, Victor. I don’t want to overwhelm you again. You deserve better. I want to make sure you’re so I don’t trigger anything.”

Victor pursed his lips. He was disappointed; he wanted to do this with Benji, so very badly. But maybe he was right. After all, Benji was the one with more experience. He was the one who understood these things. He always knew what was better for Victor than Victor himself. “Okay.”

They got ready for bed, and Victor curled up, Benji at his back. He kissed his neck, and Victor suppressed a shiver. “When you’re ready Victor, when you know you’re ready, we can do it. Okay?”

Victor nodded and closed his eyes. He thought about his scars. Forty-seven little pale patches littering his skin, discolored and ugly and just as much a part of him as everything else was. And, truth be told, he wanted Benji to know every part of him. And Benji already knew the ugliest parts. Maybe he’d think this was beautiful, too. 

He wanted this. And he wanted it with Benji. He wanted Benji in every single way, wanted to touch him in every way he could, wanted to watch his face in the moments leading up to his climax. He wanted Benji. He knew he wanted Benji. He wanted Benji to know him, all of him. He wanted to see his reaction. He wanted to see if he’d still love him. He wanted to feel Benji kiss each little discolored patch of skin, give them a new name with each sound that came from their throats. 

Fuck it. Victor didn’t think. He didn’t have to. He turned over in Benji’s arms and watched him blink his eyes open, his eyebrows quirked up. “What is i--”

Victor cut him off with a kiss, deep and slow and sweet. He pulled back slowly, savoring each second he spent kissing Benji. “I’m ready.” He said once they pulled away. “I know I’m ready. I want to do this with you. I want this.”

Benji studied him, his eyes tracking paths over his face that Victor couldn’t even try to follow. “You’re sure? I don’t want to rush.”

Victor nodded. “I’m sure. I love you.”

Benji kissed him then, careful, soft. Victor deepened the kiss, pressing his body flush to Benji’s, opening his mouth so Benji could slip his tongue in. He did, and Victor couldn’t help but groan at the feeling. Benji’s hands were on his hips, holding him there while Victor’s ran wild all over Benji’s body, feeling the familiar build he’s felt a thousand times. Victor knew Benji. He knew his body, knew his feelings. Victor was ready for Benji to know him back.

He reached down for the hem of Benji’s shirt, and Benji pulled away abruptly. They stared at each other, panting, before Benji sat up and pulled his shirt off. Victor stared at him in the darkness. He was so nervous, he was sure Benji could hear his pulse from there. 

There was another tense silence. Victor swallowed hard and leaned in and kissed Benji again. This time it was faster, deeper. He felt the tension in their actions. The sounds of their lips moving together and their heavy breathing between surrounded them like a thick fog. Benji reached down and took the hem of Victor’s shirt in both hands, and they both stopped moving. Benji leaned back to get a good look at Victor, who was panting hard. It was so dark. It was dark. It would be fine. 

Victor nodded once and in one fell swoop, Benji took off Victor’s shirt. 

His eyes darted over Victor’s front, taking in the scars alight with the moonlight streaming in through the blinds. He looked back up at Victor, understanding in his gaze. There was something else there, too. 

A deep, deep pain. 

Victor couldn’t take it. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Benji’s.   
  


Somewhere in their chests, Victor felt a vibrant gold clash brilliantly with a sparkling silver, like a firework in their hearts. He loved it. He loved Benji.

Benji came alive then, kissing back with a new fervor Victor had never seen before. Somewhere in his brain, he wondered if this was the first time Benji had seen him shirtless.

Victor slowly leaned back, and Benji pressed him into the pillows, grinding down slowly as he did. Victor stifled a moan at the feeling of the friction. This was nothing he hadn’t felt before, nothing that was new to him. He was just shirtless this time. And Benji didn’t seem to mind the scars. He didn’t seem to care. He just wanted Victor.

His hands were hot against Victor’s skin, his hips tentative as he grinded down. Victor could feel him getting hard in his sweats, his dick brushing against Victor’s. Victor took in a sharp breath at the feeling, a small whimper. Benji kissed along his jaw, following the line to the back of Victor’s ear, baring his teeth against the sensitive skin there. Victor groaned quietly as a sharp zing shot through his abdomen, praying they were quiet enough that no one heard him. 

Victor slid his hands down, over Benji’s ass, squeezing gently like Benji always did. His hips stuttered and he accidentally slammed his hips against Victor’s; both let out twin moans, struggling to keep quiet. Victor lifted his hips up, grinding up while Benji paused. Another sweet zing went through his core. Heat was pooling in his belly, something dark writhing around inside him. He wanted more, needed more. He hooked his thumbs under Benji’s waistband, waiting for permission to take them off. Benji shifted his hips so it’d be easier, and Victor slid them down, over his ass, past his thighs. Benji pulled away to get them off the rest of the way, and Victor was lost, staring at the bulge imprinted in Benji’s boxers, his strong thighs and legs and abs. His breathing stuttered. Benji really was so very beautiful. 

His eyes roamed over Benji’s body, and his gaze snagged on a pale scar on the side of his thigh, stretching under his boxers. Another caught his eye at his abdomen, a streak of white against his tanned skin. He hadn’t noticed them last time. He got a little choked up as he realized they must have been from the crash. Benji had scars, too. 

They matched. 

There was a strange silence as they each drank the other in, eyes roaming over skin and faces. Benji’s eyes snagged on a few of Victor’s own scars. He bent over Victor, holding himself above him on his hands and knees.

He started at the scar on Victor’s cheek, pressing featherlight kisses there before moving down to the scar on Victor’s collarbone. Victor’s breath caught in his throat as he watched Benji watching him, moving down slowly, giving light, loving kisses to each scar on Victor’s body. He kissed the scar above Victor’s heart, then moved to his left nipple, flicking his tongue over it. Victor gasped, a sound the result of a mixture of surprise and pleasure. Benji sucked softly at the sensitive skin; Victor’s hips bucked in response, his hands sliding into Benji’s hair. 

Benji moved on, kissing a scar in the center of Victor’s chest before giving attention to Victor’s other nipple. He hadn’t realized that he’d get so much pleasure from that. 

Benji never skipped a scar, and gave the same attention to each one. Victor watched the whole time, getting more and more antsy as Benji moved down, down, down. 

His mouth reached the waistband of Victor’s pants, and he glanced up. Maybe something in Victor’s face communicated his approval, because Benji hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down. Victor lifted his hips to help. He watched Benji’s face carefully; there was a hunger Victor had seen before, rare as it may have been, which sent another thrill through Victor. Benji bit his lip, his eyes roaming over Victor’s body. Victor felt cold and so very warm under his gaze. 

Panting, Benji got back down and mouthed at Victor’s hard on through his boxers, kissing and licking at him slowly. Benji pulled back a bit and glanced up at Victor once again, then pulled down his underwear. Victor’s dick sprang free, and Benji threw Victor’s underwear to the floor, then kissed the scar just two inches from the base of Victor’s dick. Then, Benji pulled back and gave Victor a nervous smirk and slowly took the head of Victor’s dick into his mouth. Victor’s breath left him and he threw his head back into the pillows, grabbing two fistfuls of the bedsheet and holding on for dear life. Benji hollowed out his cheeks and was tonguing at Victor’s slit, and all he could do was try not to moan too loud. 

Victor was starting to lose it. Benji’s tongue swirled enthusiastically around the head, getting more confident with each noise Victor made. He kept tripping over his breath, calling out the name of God so often that the air around them felt consecrated. 

“Benji, Benji,” Victor panted, “I think-- I think I’m gonna…” He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat coiled in his belly, tighter and tighter, his body tensing. “Benji, I’m gonna--” 

Benji pulled off just in time, jacking Victor off as he came. Victor’s breaths were harsh and loud in his own ears. He tried desperately to keep quiet, but he was overcome with emotion, whimpering as his hips bucked and white come spurted against his abdomen. 

Victor was just coming back to himself when he noticed Benji’s hand on his own cock. Victor swatted his hand away. “I wanna…” He tried to say, but his speech was slurring. He grabbed Benji and pulled him up, kissing him hard. He could taste something salty, and it was a delayed thought, but he realized it was him. He moaned, and his oversensitive dick was practically begging him to put the brakes on it, but Victor wouldn’t, not until Benji had his own orgasm.

Victor slipped Benji’s boxers off quickly, sliding his hands freely over his body, relishing the feel of holding Benji’s ass in his hands. He brought a hand up to his own mouth and spat on it, bringing it down to Benji’s dick. He jacked him off slowly, relishing in the groans Benji was trying so hard to suppress. It didn’t take long before Benji came, spilling over Victor’s hands with a soft whimper into the heated air in Victor’s bedroom. Victor stared at his face, watching him, his hand stalling as the last of Benji’s come dribbled onto his hand. 

He looked so beautiful while he came, his face flushed and relaxed, his hair falling into his face. His jaw fell open, and his hips worked back and forth, lost in the sweet euphoria of his climax. All Victor could do was revel in the fact that he was lucky enough to be able to see it. 

Benji slouched forward, pressing his forehead to Victor’s shoulder, panting against his skin. They stayed there for a moment, allowing the thick air to dissipate. Victor so much never wanted to move again, but the come on his stomach and hand was now drying uncomfortably against his skin. He nudged Benji softly. “Hey, Ben,” he whispered. “We gotta clean up.”

Benji groaned in annoyance. “I don’t wanna get up.”

Victor bit his lip and kissed the top of Benji’s head. “There are wipes in my nightstand drawer. We can use those.”

Benji sighed. “Fine.”

He rolled off of Victor in one quick motion, and already Victor missed his warmth. He reached over and grabbed the wipes, giving one to Benji to clean himself off. Victor’s movements were sluggish, exhausting with his post-sex brain. The only thing on his mind was curling up in Benji’s arms. 

By the time he finished wiping himself off, he could barely keep his eyes open. Benji, who seemed to be much more awake than Victor, took the wipes from Victor’s hands and gave him a kiss on the head before getting up to throw them away. Victor watched his butt as he walked away, smiling. He got to do that with Benji Campbell. Benji Campbell was his boyfriend, and they were in love, and they just did that. 

Benji finally got back in bed and lay down beside Victor, holding himself up on one elbow to look at him. Victor gazed back and ran a finger alongside the necklace around Benji’s neck; he shivered in response, his gaze darkening as he studied Victor. 

He tapped the ring at the base of his throat. “What’s this from?”

Victor glanced down then brought up a hand to touch the ring, all seven colors side by side just as they were in his heart. “It was Lake’s. She gave it to me.”

Benji leaned down, his eyes crinkling with a smile, and kissed Victor’s chest right next to the ring. “It’s beautiful. Perfect for you.”

Victor smiled, too. “Thank you.”

Benji nosed gently at Victor’s cheekbone. “Are you okay with what just happened?”

Victor’s breath hitched at the memory. “Yeah,” He whispered. Benji studied him again before nodding, another beautiful smile easing onto his face. He lowered his head to the pillow, forcing Victor into a cuddle. Victor chuckled softly and brought Benji’s hand to his mouth and gave him a soft kiss. “I love you,” He whispered into the night.

“I love you too,” Benji muttered. He kissed the scar on Victor’s cheek. “And I love your scars.”

Victor squeezed Benji’s hand three times; Benji squeezed back, and with that, Victor closed his eyes and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you thought!! This took way too long for me to write but here it is!! The next chapter is short tho


	18. Something Worth the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is for Amos you dumb dumb ily

Victor was going insane. 

Benji kept looking at him, and if he didn’t stop, Victor might jump him right then and there, in the middle of Brasstown, in front of all the customers. It was two days after that fateful night, when Victor’s insides rearranged, when he fell deeper in love with Benji. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about Benji’s scars. Since then, Victor noticed a small scar on the back of his neck, right below his hairline. Benji’s hair had always been long enough that Victor missed it, but he noticed it now. That following morning, he’d noticed a scar on Benji’s ass, on the left. There was one on his left shoulder. Victor had always been too blinded by the beauty of Benji’s face to ever notice it. He found himself constantly touching the places he knew had scars. He just couldn’t get over it. They matched.

Benji was smiling every time Victor glanced over at him, whether he was smiling to himself or watching Victor. He was always grinning softly, biting his lip. He looked shy. He was so beautiful like this. Victor loved him so much. 

As Benji was finishing up making a customer’s drink, the door opened, and Lake and Felix came in wearing twin smiles. Lake looked so honestly excited to see them. Victor touched the ring hanging against his shirt just as she noticed. 

Lake nodded in approval as she gazed at her ring against his chest, just beside his heart. “It looks good on you.”

Victor smiled so wide it made his cheeks hurt. “I love it.”

Felix was looking at him with a fond look and Victor held out a fist to him. Felix gave him a fistbump saying, “You look happy.”

“Yeah you do,” Lake said with a knowing tone. “Anything happen with you and Benji?”

Victor bit his lip shyly and glanced over at Benji, who was laughing with a customer. He turned back to Lake with a sheepish smile. “Maybe…”

Lake chuckled in excitement, her eyes lighting up. “Finally! You have to tell me about it!”

“Okay,” Victor said quietly, “but later. So, what can I get you guys?”

***

Lake planned a Tuesday night study-session-sleepover with Victor, Felix, and Mia. They were sitting in a small circle on the floor next to the couch, and Victor wasn’t really sure why, but he really liked it. By 9:00 that night, though, no one could sit still anymore, and Lake pounced like she’d obviously been aching to do all night. 

“Okay, break,” she said, “Victor, so how was it with Benji?”

Victor chuckled softly. He was completely certain this was the other reason she’d scheduled this. “He was… good.”

“Tell us everything,” she said, shoving her hands in the popcorn bowl. “Spare no details.”

Victor’s eyes widened as he looked around, “Uh…” 

Mia and Felix were sitting up, moving their textbooks from their laps. Yeah, Victor would not get out of this. He sent a quick mental apology to Benji and tried to keep it as short as possible. “I mean, we were just laying together, then I kissed him, and things just escalated.” He shrugged. “That’s it.” That most certainly was not it, but what else was he supposed to say?

Lake rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, give us something. Does he have a six pack?”

Victor felt himself blushing. “Yeah…”

Mia took a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth. “So, he was good?”

He swallowed heavily. “Uh huh.”

“Well, how?” Felix asked. 

Victor gave him a look. “ _ Felix! _ ”

“No, don’t say anything to him,” Lake said. “You’re not exactly being very open right now.”

Victor sighed and turned a look on her. “Okay, well… he was good. Really good. He gave me, uh…”

“A handjob?” Lake offered. When Victor shook his head, she said, “A blowjob?”

Victor gave a one-shoulder shrug and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely around them. “He gave me head.”

“Shit, Victor, was he good at it?” Lake asked with a smile.

“Yeah, obviously, I just said he was,” Victor shot back with a smile. 

“So, I’m assuming he topped?” Mia said. 

Victor laughed. “I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult or not.”

“Hey, we don’t bottom-shame here,” Lake said, holding up her hands palms-out.

He sighed. “Well, good, because he did.” He turned to Mia. “How’d you know?”

She tilted her head at him. “You really need to ask me that question? Our whole relationship I had a vibe.”

He groaned. “Great. Awesome.”

Lake waved Mia off. “So, what did you do?”

“I… gave him a handjob.”

“And he liked it?”

Victor shrugged. “I mean, I’m assuming. He came, so…”

Lake shoved Victor’s knee, a bright smile on her face. “Nice! And how’d he react to the scars?”

Victor smiled and rested his chin on his knees. “He kissed them all. And he said he loved them.”

All of their faces softened at his words. “That’s… really good, Victor.” Lake said.

He nodded. “He had scars, too.” He told them. He tried to keep his breaths even, tried to keep the tears from his eyes, but they were building up at the memories of Benji’s smile that next morning when Victor woke up. He’d been brushing his fingers against his scars, his eyes on Victor’s torso as he did. It was a moment before he noticed Victor was awake, and Victor got the chance to watch Benji’s gentle smile as he touched all of the scars he could reach. And he got the pleasure of watching Benji’s face when he realized Victor was awake. The sunlight had been streaming through the curtains already, but the daylight dulled in comparison to Benji’s smile first thing in the morning. He shrugged and sniffled, trying his best to keep the tears back. “We match.”

A film of tears covered Lake’s eyes, and she pursed her lips into a smile. “Victor…” She said softly, “you and Benji match inside and out. I’m so glad you realize that.”

He nodded and blinked a couple times. “I do.” He looked all three of them in the face. His ex-girlfriend turned great friend, his close friend, and his brother. “I don’t think I mind my scars anymore.”

A tear raced down Lake’s cheek, dropping off at her cheekbone. “I’m so proud of you, Victor.”

He tried his best to keep from crying, but his tears were coming too fast. “Me too.”

Mia crawled to his side and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re perfect, Victor,” she whispered and wiped his tears. 

Victor smiled. “So are you.” 

She touched her forehead to his, closing her eyes, a smile on her face. “I love you,” she breathed. 

He closed his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are appreciated


	19. What Have I Become, My Sweetest Friend?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny Cash, anyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amos answer your texts pls and thanks

Victor never slept anymore. 

He was always dreaming, always seeing Benji dead, his friends hurting, his father attacking him or any of them. He saw Pilar and Adrian bleeding, saw his mother crying blood, saw his abuelo’s anger. He saw people dying. He saw the clouds raining blood. He saw his own very special hell every single night. 

It was one of the nights that Victor was awake. It was raining, which Victor had very much grown to despise. It made his head hurt and his scars ache. It made him feel like he had bruises all over. Sometimes it hurt so bad that he couldn’t move. Thank God basketball season was over.

On nights like these, when everything hurt and he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing someone’s face covered in blood, that he paced. He walked the whole house time and time again, checking that the windows and doors were locked, no one was behind the couch or in anyone’s rooms. He’d sit on the floor beside everyone’s beds and listen to them breathe, watching to make sure Armando didn’t come in at night and kill them. 

So, tonight, he ignored the ache in his bones and walked through the house, doing his normal route through the apartment. The people downstairs probably hated him by now. 

He was on his third round, checking in each cabinet in the kitchen for whatever might have been hiding there when he heard a door open. He took off running toward the sound, his latest dream flashing back in his mind--his father murdering his siblings--when he saw the door to his mother’s bedroom was open, and standing outside was a sleepy-looking Isabel with a very concerned look on her face. 

“What are you doing up, mi amor?” She asked.

Victor felt so relieved and had so much adrenaline and he was so fucking tired. He broke down crying. 

His mother held him, stroking his hair and speaking kind words in Spanish. Eventually, she pushed him back by the shoulders and asked, “What is it, mijo?”

Victor wiped his eyes. “I keep having nightmares.” He whispered. “I’m just… so scared he’s here.”

Isabel stroked his cheeks. “It’s okay, Victor, you’re safe.” 

He sniffed, nodding, though both knew he didn’t truly believe it. Or maybe he did, but something in his brain was telling him not to. She tilted her head, regarding him carefully. “Do you want to go watch a movie? We have Disney Plus.”

Victor bit his upper lip and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Isabel put on Cars. Victor had never really liked this movie too much, but he stared at the television, watching the bright colors and listening to the easy voices as Isabel held him to her chest, stroking his hair and kissing his head until he fell asleep in her arms.

***

That was just the beginning. Over the next week, Victor was up every night. He hated sleeping, hated seeing his family and friends being tortured every night. Armando breaking Simon’s neck while Victor screamed for him to stop. Abuelo hitting Benji, kicking him, stomping him into the pavement, while Victor was helpless to do anything. Adrian bleeding out on the ground. Victor holding thousands of knives, his hands covered in gallons of blood, everyone he knew on the ground, dead. The skies bleeding. Everyone dying. Armando hitting him. Armando killing him. 

Isabel always made her way to the couch, stopping Victor in his adamant pacing and sitting with him, holding him, putting on some Disney movie to ease him back to sleep. Sometimes he was screaming in his sleep, and Isabel would be there, waking him slowly. She’d walk him to the couch and put another movie on and hold him until he slipped back into sleep. 

He liked  _ Moana _ , and  _ Princess and the Frog _ , along with  _ Toy Story 2 _ and  _ Cars _ . 

Tonight, he sat with Isabel, his arms around her middle, tears in his eyes as she put on  _ Toy Story 3 _ for them to watch. Everything was fine except that it was depressing Victor a little bit. It was fine, though. Maybe they’d put on  _ Frozen _ after this. 

They got to the part where the garbage truck came. Something inside Victor stopped. He grew apprehensive as he watched the screen, watched everyone panic and try desperately to stay safe, to keep from dying. They were all holding hands, waiting. 

There was a lurch in Victor’s stomach, and he shot up, racing to the bathroom before collapsing to his knees. 

Isabel was behind him in seconds, rubbing his back while he dry-heaved. Everything hurt so bad. It all hurt so very bad. He couldn’t stop gagging, but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up. His abdomen hurt and his mouth kept filling with saliva and he kept spitting it up, but nothing else came. There was no bad in him to get rid of. 

They didn’t watch that movie again after that night. 

***

Benji had an arm wrapped casually around Victor’s back. He was trying his very best to stay awake, but he could barely keep his eyes open. He barely touched the lunch Benji put such care into making. Everyone was talking about finals week coming up, but Victor was already told he was exempt from every exam. Benji and Felix were both exempt from a couple exams, too. Victor wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he didn’t really care. 

He nestled into Benji, who kissed the top of his head. “Are you okay, Vic?” He asked softly. “You’ve been really tired lately.”

Victor nodded and rubbed his eyes. Benji smiled softly. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

Now Benji was frowning. “That’s what you said to me when your parents kicked you out.”

Victor, despite his body groaning in protest, sat up. Everyone was quiet now, anxious to hear Victor’s explanation. “I’m. fine. I am still living with my mom. I still live there. I just… I can’t sleep. I get nightmares sometimes. I guess I’m a little worried about my dad coming back and hurting one of us.”

Benji rubbed Victor’s back. “Baby, Armando was arrested. He’s still in custody. He can’t get out. He can’t get to you now.”

Victor nodded. “I know. I’m just… scared, I guess.”

Everyone was silent, mulling Victor’s words over in their heads. He wished he hadn’t said anything. He was always ruining the mood at the table. Him and his fucked up brain.

“You know,” Andrew said suddenly, “my uncle served in the military. For eight years.”

“Johnny,” Mia said with a soft smile. “He used to pick me up and throw me over his shoulder and carry me around,” she laughed fondly. 

Andrew smiled, too. “Yeah. He served in the Army. And when he got back, he was staying with us, he was fine. Happy, even. Really happy. And he was a little anxious sometimes, a little jumpy, but that was to be expected. He always told us he was fine, his bed was too soft, he just needed some adjusting, he just needed to sleep better. And everyone bought it. 

“Uncle Johnny started getting worse. He would jump at everything. He got paranoid about the locks on the windows and the doors. He was terrified someone would come try to get me. He’d sleep outside my door. He’d protect me. 

“After a while, he stopped sleeping at my door and would just sit there, alert. Sometimes, after I found out, I sat with him. Sometimes I fell asleep in his lap. Sometimes I’d stay in my bed. I didn’t learn until much later that Uncle Johnny stopped sleeping because he had nightmares. Every night. Not always nightmares about what happened. Something related or some other fear manifesting itself into a nightmare.

“That’s the thing about PTSD,” Andrew went on, “it isn’t this one thing repeated. You don’t dream about shooting someone, you don’t dream about being raped, you don’t dream about getting beaten. You dream about being swallowed up by the sand of the desert. You dream about being cornered somewhere you can’t recognize. You dream about a figure following you everywhere you go. You dream about your feet getting stuck in cement as someone approaches you. 

“You throw up. You get hollow. You dissociate all the time. You’re sensitive, but you’re angry. You live in fight-or-flight. It’s like a part of you until you get help.” Andrew looked very closely at Victor. “Uncle Johnny didn’t get help. Uncle Johnny started taking pills, and he died.”

Victor stared at Andrew. “What,” he said softly, “so you think I have PTSD?”

Andrew shrugged. “I don’t know. This just made me think about that. I miss Uncle Johnny, Victor. I miss him a lot.”

Victor turned to Benji. He looked so scared. 

Victor shook his head. “I’m not Uncle Johnny.”

“You’re right,” Andrew said, “you’re not. You’re Victor Salazar. You can be different.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave some comments and some love I love reading your comments uwu


	20. Like Father, Like Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are gonna be Short but they're still valid

If Victor had to deal with one more  _ fucking _ customer, he’d snap.

Brasstown was buzzing like crazy with students from both the high school and the nearby community college, not to mention patrons from neither, and it was starting to get to Victor’s head. He was tired, and beyond overwhelmed, and this guy  _ looked like Armando _ , and not even Benji’s soft presence could help him now. 

This guy had hair like Armando’s and a beard like Armando’s, and he dressed like him and their jawlines were so similar and he had the same crazed look as Armando had when he was attacking Victor and fuck was Victor about to die again?

Benji was a saint. Why? Because he understood Victor’s emotions and needs with one single glance his way, and right now, Victor knew Benji knew Victor was tense. But Victor was fine, and he’d be fine, and maybe this guy would kill him, but that didn’t matter, now did it? Victor was fine. He’d just take this man’s order. No action necessary. He was fine.

It seemed Benji, though, disagreed. He was at Victor’s side in seconds, running a gentle hand down his spine. On the inside, Victor was screaming.  _ How can you do this, _ he thought.  _ This man will kill us for it. _

“Hey, Vic,” Benji said softly, “why don’t you go take a break, huh? I can hold down the fort up here, just go take a breather, okay?”

Victor shook his head. Even if he did need a break, which he  _ didn’t _ , they were too damn busy to have only one of them taking orders while simultaneously making drinks. So, even though his hands were shaking and his knees were weak and he was definitely about to die, he declined. “No, Benji, I’m fine.”

Benji, however, did not seem convinced. “No you’re not,” he said, “and it wasn’t a suggestion. Go to the back, take a break.”

Victor took a deep breath. “I don’t need to.”

“I’m your boss,” Benji said. His voice was stern. It chilled Victor down to his core. “Go to the back, take a damn break. Now. It’s not a choice.”

Victor looked at Benji, his chest tight. He’d thought Benji understood. He’d thought Benji loved him. He’d thought Benji would never hurt him.

Victor tightened his jaw and walked to the back, waiting until he sat to have his meltdown.

_ He looked so much like Armando… _

***

Benji barely got the door locked for the night before he turned to Victor, his jaw set. “Maybe you should head home early tonight. I’ve got the place covered.”

Victor bristled. He was still mad about Benji forcing him to the back earlier. “I don’t need your pity,” he shot back, and went to grab a broom.

Benji pursed his lips and rubbed at the back of his neck, right where the scar was. “It’s not pity, Vic, I’m worried about you. I haven’t seen you act like that in a while. I know you haven’t been sleeping. You can head home early tonight while the sun is still up. I know it’ll make you feel better.”

Victor snarled, “You don’t know me at all.”

Benji looked genuinely offended now. He looked so very hurt. “What has gotten into you, Victor?”

Victor shook his head. “Can we just clean? Please?”

He watched Benji as he stared at him, frozen, deliberating. “Fine,” he finally said, “but will you call your mom to pick you up since it’ll be past sundown? I don’t want you walking home alone in the mental state you’re in right now.”

“You don’t control me!” Victor snapped. “I don’t need your help or anyone’s help.  _ I’m fine. _ ” 

Benji stared at him. He looked so upset. “Fine.” And with that, he walked into the back. 

Victor swept in silence, feeling more and more remorse as the time stretched on and Benji still wasn’t back. He shouldn’t have snapped on him. He’d have to apologize. 

Eventually, Benji came back, and he grabbed the mop and did the floor in record time as Victor cleaned the appliances. It was almost time for him to clock out when a car pulled into the lot. Victor glanced out and saw the familiar car, and he immediately knew who it was: his mom.

“What’s my mom doing here?” He asked as he watched her get out of the car. She was walking toward the door with a smile. 

“I called her,” Benji said reluctantly, unlocking the door to let her in. “I really don’t feel comfortable with you walking him in the state you’ve been in the past couple days, and your mom doesn’t either. She came to pick you up.”

Isabel nodded as she stepped inside. Victor stared at them both. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to feel. And then, he was enraged.

“You did what?” He said softly. Benji looked nervous, and Victor just stared at him. “Why the fuck would you do that? Why would you think that’s okay?”

Benji blanched a bit. “I didn’t want you getting hurt or hurting yourself or having some sort of panic attack while you were walking home. I care about you, Vic, I--”

“ _ Don’t call me that! _ ” Victor shouted. “You have no right to call my mom, do you understand? Fucking  _ none _ !” He breathed heavily, trying desperately to calm himself down, but fuck it, Benji crossed a line. “Why the fuck would you do that? I told you I was fine and I meant it!”

Benji shook his head. The calm in the storm. “I’m your boyfriend, Victor. I know you. Better than you think I do.”

Victor, for a wild moment, thought of hitting him. Then, he thought that was exactly what his dad would do. So, he settled for yelling instead. 

“You don’t know shit, Benji! You think you know me? Fuck off! This crossed a line, and you probably fucking knew it, didn’t you?”

“Victor, that’s enough!” Isabel shouted. Victor didn’t care. He raged right through her words.

“I have been going through enough bullshit to deal with this shit from you!”

Benji was crying. Good God, Benji was crying. Victor felt like he had more control than he had in months, if not years.

“This isn’t fucking fair, Benji! You don’t get to decide how I live my life after so much has been taken! You don’t!” Victor didn’t know what else to do, he didn’t know what else to say. He shook his head, said one last, “Fuck you,” then stalked off to the time clock. He punched out, so enraged that one of the buttons stuck after he pressed it too hard, and bounded off to his mother’s car. She didn’t say a word as they drove home. However, once they were parked and the car was off, neither moved. Victor knew there was something she was going to say. He figured it was best to let her get it out.

“That wasn’t fair to Benji,” she said. She was staring out the windshield, a storm on her face. “He’s just looking out for you.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “He crossed a line.”

“No, he didn’t. He was worrying about your safety, Victor.”

He shook his head. “Screw this.” He opened the door and jumped out, stomping up to his room. He lay down, and immediately passed out from exhaustion.

***

Victor stood in his bedroom, staring at his clothes. He was wearing jeans and work boots and a t-shirt with a flannel thrown over top, but that wasn’t what was most alarming. He was covered in blood. It was splattered on his front so heavily it looked like he’d done a belly flop into a pool of the stuff. He gagged. There was so, so much.

There was something bad in the living room. Something so very bad. He didn’t know what it was. But he knew it was there. If he saw it, he’d die, and he didn’t want to die, so he wouldn’t go see it. 

His feet had other plans. He was walking out of his room leaving bloody shoe prints even as he tried desperately to stop himself. Danger was in there. Danger.

Everyone inside was already dead.

Victor stared on in horror at everyone’s corpses littering the living room. He could see his mother’s reaching desperately to the remnants of Pilar and Adrian. In her last moments, she was still their mother. 

Andrew was trying his best to shelter Mia, even in death. Victor supposed he hadn’t succeeded.

Felix was holding tight to his mother and Lake. Even in death, Mrs. Weston still looked so sad.

The Spiers were piled on top of each other, Nora at the bottom, then Emily, and strewn over the top was Jack. Or, well, what Victor assumed was Jack. He was cut to bits, raining all over his deceased family.

Simon and Bram were holding hands beside them. Bram’s face was still fresh with tears.

Justin’s body was thrown haphazardly over Kim’s and Ivy’s. Kim looked so scared. Victor’s heart ached knowing for the rest of eternity their face would be frozen in terror.

By Victor’s feet was Benji. His murder seemed to be one of the most brutal. His neck had a ring of forming bruises, his torso merely held together with how many times he’d been stabbed. His eyes were wide, and in his expression there was no love. No hate. There was nothing. Victor had to look away.

But what he saw next was one of the most horrifying. A body that looked just like his own with a face identical to his lay motionless on the floor. Even in death, this Victor was holding onto Benji’s hand so tight. Victor understood. He loved Benji. He needed him. And now he was dead. Victor was dead. Everyone was dead.

In a flash, Victor’s dead body sat up, gasping for air, eyes wide with fear. The real Victor took a step back. 

Victor, the Victor on the floor, looked up at him. There was a plea in his eyes. Victor found himself indifferent toward it. 

“Please,” the dead Victor said, “why did you do this to us?”

Victor’s hands, the real Victor’s hands, were covered in blood. He looked like he was bathing in it. 

He glanced up, and out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. The mirror.

He looked at his own reflection, but he wasn’t him anymore. He was Armando.

***

Victor woke with a start. He was becoming his father. He was becoming an abuser. He was becoming a murderer.

He picked up his phone, trembling all over. He put the device to his ear, listening to the dial tone, begging for the call to connect. “Please,” he kept whispering, “please pick up.”

The call connected, and Benji’s tired voice was like heaven. “Hello?”

Tears sprang into Victor’s eyes and he started sobbing into the phone, full, loud, ugly sobs that wracked his body.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I’m so sorry.”

He broke into another fit of sobbing and his mother came in, flicking the light on, and Benji over the phone kept saying it was okay, but nothing was okay anymore. Nothing could ever be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give love


	21. Tiny Glass Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *****TW: PTSD ATTACK*****
> 
> Summary in bottom notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls read with caution. victor has a PTSD attack,, thing

When Victor invited Benji back for dinner, he figured it’d be a good idea. He’d already apologized a thousand times for his behavior the previous night, but he still felt terrible for it. Maybe they could have a decent apology together, in private, where Victor could truly explain the depths of his exhaustion and prove he’d never truly meant what he said. He was grateful now, honestly. If Benji hadn’t called his mother, Victor was sure his night would have been a thousand times worse. 

Benji came in carefully, still on edge. Victor felt even worse as he watched him; Benji had been on edge all day around Victor. The sight made his stomach turn. 

Victor led Benji by the hand to his room, and they lay down together, face to face. Victor stroked Benji’s face slowly, watching as Benji turned his head to kiss his palm. Victor’s chest warmed. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too,” Benji said back and kissed his palm again. 

“I’m still so sorry about last night,” Victor said next.

Benji shook his head. “You don’t need to be. I overstepped, and—“

“No,” Victor interrupted, “you didn’t. I needed my mom to take me home. I couldn’t get home on my own, and I know that now. Last night I was just…” He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering his own fear and anger. “I was so tired. And I’ve been so scared. And I took it out on you and that wasn’t fair.” He pressed their foreheads together, begging Benji to understand. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you for worrying about me. You were just looking out for me. And whether I wanted to admit it or not, I needed it. I probably will for a while.”

Benji nodded and kissed him gently. “It’s okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Victor whispered. And he meant it with each atom in his body. Every part of him glowed gold. “Can I kiss you?”

Wordlessly, Benji nodded, and Victor pressed his lips to Benji’s. A sweet heat rose between them, and they kissed with slow, languid movements. Victor touched the scar on Benji’s butt, even if two pieces of fabric separated his fingertips from the skin. He knew where it was. He knew they were the same. Benji moaned and pressed closer to Victor, deepening the kiss. His hands tightened on Victor’s hips, so hard it hurt, and Victor was getting drunk off it, the sweet liquor of the way Benji tasted, the ache of summertime in the way Benji’s tongue slipped inside his mouth, the gentle pulse in Victor’s body to the tempo Benji set each kiss, a sweet champagne the color of gold. 

Benji carded his fingers through Victor’s hair while he stroked Benji’s jaw with his thumb, felt the softness of his skin. 

Benji settled his hand on the back of Victor’s neck, and he was trapped. Victor was trapped. He shifted away and landed on something digging into his back, something sharp. The hands on his hips wouldn't let him go. He was going to die. He was trapped and he was going to get hurt and he was going to hurt him and he was going to die and—

“Victor? Victor, what’s wrong?”

—he was going to die he was going to get hurt Armando was here he was grabbing him he was going to murder him he was here he was here he was here—

“Victor! Victor, can you hear me?”

—he was here he was here he was here—

“Felix? There’s something wrong, I don’t know what it is, I don’t—“

—Armando has his hands around Victor’s throat and he was choking him and Victor couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe—

“Victor! Hey, Vic, it’s me, it’s Felix—“

—he’d kill him he was holding his arms he’d kill him—

“Don’t touch him!”

“What else do I do?”

—Victor was dying he was here he was dying  _ he was here he was dying HE WAS HERE HE WAS DYING— _

“Isabel, I don’t know what happened, you need to come home—“

— _ DYING DYING DYING _ —

“Victor, please, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay—“

—let him go, please let him go he wanted to be let gf Armando stop holding him like that let him go he was screaming he couldn’t stop screaming—

“Victor, mi amor, what happened—“

—please stop touching him please stop he was dying he was dying  _ he was dying HE WAS DYING _ —

—he was screaming and he was dying and he was choking and Armando was strangling him he was dying—

“Victor, it’s okay! Shh, it’s, Victor, mijo, please.”

—he couldn’t breathe he could barely breathe nothing was working his airway was broken—

“Victor, you wanna watch  _ Moana _ ?”

—he’d die he was dying FUCK  _ VICTOR WAS DYING _ —

Victor Salazar was dying. 

***

There were voices. Singing. They were singing softly. There were three. 

He heard music. 

Three voices. 

“The line where the sky meets the sea, it calls me,” they sang softly, “and no one knows how far it goes.”

It was Moana. 

He thought he heard his mother’s voice, too. 

And Benji’s. 

And he could smell the familiar scent of Felix. 

They were here for him. 

He’d panicked, and they were all there for it. 

He felt so very ashamed. 

So, he stopped listening. He stopped feeling. He stopped thinking. 

He just stopped going. 

***

The next morning, his mom came in and gently rubbed his back. “You wanna go to school today, mijo?”

Victor didn’t answer. He was too ashamed to even speak. It hurt to think about speaking. He didn’t answer. He didn’t even move. 

“Okay,” mi amor,” she said and kissed his head. “You don’t have to.”

She stood and left. And Victor stopped thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Victor apologizes to Benji for yelling at him and they kiss and Benji does something which hurts Victor and he has a PTSD attack. Benji calls Felix and Isabel to help and they have him watch Moana and he dissociates. The next day (Friday) he is still dissociating and doesn't go to school


	22. Scars on the Body, Scars on the Brain

Things were happening around him, Victor was sure of it. Life was moving on at whatever pace it might have been, seconds or minutes or hours or days or weeks or months or years. He just wasn’t a part of it anymore. 

School was moving on, he figured. Everyone was preparing for finals week. The day passed him in a blur of thoughts. He just kept staring at the wall. All he could do was stare. 

He felt like he wasn’t in his own body. He could see himself laying there, see his thinning frame tucked into his bed sheets, his mother coming in every so often to check on him. She was more frantic each time, desperately trying to get him to eat or drink or move. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t in his own body anymore. He couldn’t do it. 

The light shifted. The day passed. He was staring at himself, lost, unable to get the dreams and the panics out of his head. He was floating behind himself. He wanted to get up and walk away; it felt like he could. But every time he tried to move, he was stuck like cement. He was a five-ton statue stuck beneath the sheets. His consciousness was lost in space among the stars. 

He could sense the door opening again, could tell Benji dropped his backpack beside the bed. He saw him slot himself against Victor’s back, press featherlight kisses to his shoulders and neck. Victor desperately wanted to feel the sensations, but all he had were their ghosts. 

On a whim, he wondered if he could step back into himself. He wondered if he could shove his consciousness back into his body, aching and tired as it was, and lay with Benji like he wanted to. So, he tried. 

And he could feel everything. He could feel his muscles aching and his chest squeezing in pain and Benji’s arms wrapped tight around him and his kisses and Victor couldn’t take it. He was overwhelmed by it all. He was so, so scared in his own body. So he jumped out and watched as Benji sang to him. And then he stopped thinking altogether. 

***

Over the next few days, Victor felt a similar sensation as on Friday, a strange out-of-body experience as people came to check on him one after the other. 

Felix came on Saturday and talked at him for nearly an hour. He told him how stressed his mom was, how worried all his friends were. He told him how Benji had texted Simon and Bram to ask for advice on this. He told him how guilty Benji felt for pushing him too hard. Victor wished he could hold Benji and tell him it wasn’t his fault. Victor didn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault that Victor was broken. 

When Felix left, and Victor could still hear him talking to Isabel, Mia and Lake came in. They lay with him and talked about how worried they were, how much they loved him, how much they missed him. They gave him kisses. All Victor felt were phantom bugs on his cheeks. 

Not long after the two of them left, Victor could hear talking in the other room. He could hear Emily in there with everyone else. He desperately wanted to go talk with them, but he was stuck here just staring at his own head. 

He could hear them talking about dissociation and PTSD. Interventions. He hated the idea of having some big bad mental disorder. He hated that there might be something wrong with him. Really, what did it matter if there was? Not like anything would change with the knowledge of it. 

After a while, Andrew came in and sat with him. He was silent as he sat on the floor with his back against Victor’s head. Something in Victor calmed with his presence. Nothing would get to him when Andrew was there. 

He scoffed. “Your window’s smashed, Salazar.”

Victor couldn’t see his window from this angle, but he could picture the empty space easily. He’d only stared at it a million times over. 

“Everyone’s worried about you, Salazar,” Andrew said. “Not me, of course,” he added, “but everyone else.”

Andrew sat, quiet, picking at his nails. “Okay. So maybe I’m worried, too. We just want you to wake up, Victor. You’re important to us. We care a lot about you. We just want you to wake up.” His head fell back against the bed and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I wish I could’ve helped you. I wish I could’ve done something so you never had to go through this. I was so worried about how this would affect Mia the night of the dance, and we weren’t really friends. I guess I forgot to think about how this would change your life. I guess I forgot what your dad was like. I forgot what you could go through. And then you went through the worst. I wish I could go back in time and change it. I wish I could keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. “You’re important to me, Victor. Please, just wake up.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands. “I doubt you can even hear this right now, but, uh, yeah. And if you can hear it, and you tell anybody, I will deny it.” 

Andrew stood and touched Victor’s shoulder gently. “You’re a good guy, Salazar. Please don’t forget, if you’re in there.”

***

Somewhere, Victor’s body fell asleep, and with it went his consciousness. He wasn’t sure how long he was asleep or how long he’d been laying there. He first became aware of a horrid stench which, after a moment, he realized was himself. After this realization, he became aware of five extra bodies piled into his full-sized bed. They were all breathing softly, and Victor noticed then that he was back in his body. It didn’t hurt. 

He startled and sat up. Someone groaned; it was Kim.

Wait. It was Kim. 

Victor looked around as everyone blinked awake after the commotion. Justin was at his back, spooning him, while Bram and Simon curled up together by his chest. Kim was draped over Justin’s and Victor’s hips while they lay together on their sides. Ivy was nestled up at the foot of the bed like a cat. 

Victor stared at them in shock. What were they  _ doing _ here?

Simon sat up, much to Bram’s dislike. “Victor, you’re awake.”

Victor just stared at him. His whole body was tense and his mouth tasted like he’d eaten a pair of dirty gym socks. It probably smelled like it, too. In order to spare them all his extreme morning breath, he just nodded. 

Kim squeezed his hand. “We came down to check on you. We were so worried, Victor. Mom told us you were dissociating… we had to make sure you were okay.”

It took a moment for Victor to truly understand what that meant. He’d scared them a lot, it seemed. How long had he been laying here outside his own brain? A fear settled into his chest, a rarer type of dread that took an entire minute to identify as such. How long had the world passed over him? Days? Months? Years?

His hands were shaking. He was hungry and thirsty, but he couldn’t take the irritation of his dirty skin any longer. 

“I’m gonna shower,” he mumbled. He stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom. He turned the water on hot and sat at the bottom of the tub, just staying there until the heat turned lukewarm, then stood and lathered himself up. He soaped up his hair pretty well, then washed his face. After he finally got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth twice before finally giving up on getting the sock taste out of his mouth. He went back to his room, which was now devoid of people, and threw on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt along with a sweatshirt he’d stolen from Benji last time he was at his house. 

He stood in front of the mirror, arms wrapped around himself, and studied his reflection. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted. He felt like he’d died and come back to life.

When Victor made it back out to the front room, everyone was waiting for him. He was passed from person to person, each giving him a hug. Bram, Emily, Benji, Andrew, and Pilar were waiting at the back where they didn’t hug him. Victor was beyond grateful; with each person that touched him, he felt more of his energy leech out of him. He appreciated the gesture and their concern, but if one more person touched him he might explode. Except for when he got to Adrian. His little brother held him by the face and said, “Do you remember when I was laying with you?”

Victor nodded. “I do.” He did not.

Adrian pressed his nose to Victor’s. He was such a strange kid. Victor loved him with his whole heart.

Victor was sat on the couch and given chicken noodle soup (he ate two and a half bowls) some hot tea (two cups) and six glasses of water. He couldn’t get enough of the stuff. 

Everyone sat with him after he finished, which took about an hour and a half in total. After, Benji sat next to him with a decent amount of space between them. Victor wasn’t sure if he wanted him closer or not, so he settled for reaching for his hand and squeezing three times. Benji, seemingly relieved, squeezed back. 

Emily sat on the coffee table across from him. “Victor, we all love you so much,” she started, “and we don’t want to see anything bad happen to you ever again. I mean, they came down from New York for the weekend to check up on you. You realize how important you are to each of us, right?”

Victor glanced at Andrew. He remembered what he’d said while he was between the veil of death and his body, and by the looks of it, Andrew could tell. He gave him a sharp look then turned his gaze to the floor. Victor turned back to Emily and nodded. “Right.”

“Okay,” Emily said. She gestured to Isabel, who sat down beside her. 

“We’re worried about you, mi amor,” Isabel said to him. 

“Mom,” Victor said back, “I’m fine. I was just off for a little while.”

“Mijo, you were laying there for three days. You didn’t eat or drink or talk for three days,” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and leaned forward. The tears in her eyes shocked Victor. “Listen to me. I will not lose you, Victor. One month without you was more than I will ever take again. I can’t let you just…” she waved her hands around, “I can’t let you do this to yourself, honey.”

Victor shook his head. “Mom, I’m sorry I scared you, but really I’m fine.” 

Benji squeezed his hand. “Victor, no offense, but no. You’re not.”

Victor turned to look at him and swallowed hard, pulling his hand from Benji’s grasp. “What are you saying?”

Emily scooched forward. “Victor, all we’re saying is that you deserve better than this. You’re suffering, baby, but you don’t have to. We can help you. We can get you diagnosed, we can get you medicated--”

Victor stood up, pacing away from them. “I don’t need medication, Emily, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Victor--”

“No, Emily, I’m fine, I don’t need this, I--”

“Salazar,” Andrew cut in. “You remember Uncle Johnny?”

Victor stared at him, his eyes blazing with tears. “I’m not Uncle Johnny,” he whispered.

Andrew shook his head, blinking back his own tears. “You’re starting to be.”

Mia wiped her face beside him. “Victor, I don’t want you to be like him,” she said. The plea in her voice was like sandpaper against Victor’s skin; he recoiled at the feeling. “I don’t want you to die like him, Victor, no one does.”

Adrian gasped. “Victor…” 

He shook his head. “Guys, I’m not gonna die. I’m not going to be like Uncle Johnny because I’m not like him. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“You’re right,” Emily said gently. “There isn’t anything wrong with you. You’re not broken, Victor. Not even a little bit. It just means your brain got rewired a little differently. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.” Her eyes were wet, her face red. Victor could barely stand looking at her, so he averted his gaze. “Victor, if you’re sick then you’re sick. Please, don’t try to deny it.”

Victor shook his head. “Emily, I’m fine. Everyone,  _ I’m fine _ . I don’t need this. I’m not sick!”

“No quiero que mueras!” Pilar screamed. “Por favor. Victor.” 

He stared at her. Her face was splotchy with the force of her unshed tears, her lip quivering.

_ I don’t want you to die… _

“Pilar,” Victor said softly, “No voy a morir.”

“Promise?” She asked with a sniff. 

Victor nodded. “Promise.” He turned to everyone, a big group of people who loved and supported him and would take care of him. Everyone was here. Hell, even Jack and Nora were here. But Victor was fine. He couldn’t have something wrong with him. That would just be too much. “I’m fine. I’m not going to die. There is nothing wrong with me.” He tried to take a deep breath, but something in his throat stopped him. He felt like he was choking. Benji’s sweatshirt was all too restrictive now, too tight around his arms and lungs and chest and neck. He was too hot, too closed in. He fled to his bedroom and wrestled it off. He couldn't get it over his head, and the panic set in. He couldn’t see. He was trapped, tangled into a noose of his own making. He couldn’t get out of this trap, couldn’t get out of the straightjacket he’d put himself into. 

“Victor,” came Benji’s voice, “let me help.”

Two hands settled at the hem of the sweatshirt and pulled him free. Benji smiled softly at him and threw the jacket on Victor’s bed, slowly carding his fingers through Victor’s hair. “There you are.”

Victor was trying his best to breathe. He finally was free. He could breathe again. 

Benji stood in front of him, his hands carefully at his sides. “Uh, Bram and Emily told me it was best not to touch you without your permission. I don’t want to set you off again.”

Victor just stared at him. “Okay.”

Benji nodded. “Okay…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “I’m really sorry about what happened the other day. I didn’t mean to do that to you. I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Victor said. “I, uh, I was just really tired. I guess I was just trying to ignore it.”

Benji nodded. “Well, uh, as long as you’re okay now.”

God, it was so awkward. Victor wasn’t sure how to ease the tension in the room. 

“Are you here to convince me to check myself into a mental hospital?” He asked. That was not the right thing to say.

Benji shook his head, eyes wide. “No. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” He told him. “And, by the way, it wouldn’t be a mental hospital. It would be a psychiatrist and a therapist, people who are equipped and highly qualified to help you. People who can help you live your everyday life. Without nightmares. Without the dissociation episodes. Just… being you.”

Victor narrowed his eyes at him. “It sounds like you’re here to convince me.”

Benji shook his head again. “I’m here because I love you. And I wanted to make sure you’re okay. And I wanted to apologize. You were in a bad place and I took advantage of you and I am so sorry.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” Victor said, walking around Benji to sit on his bed. “I asked you to kiss me, remember?”

“Honestly,” Benji said, sitting beside him, “I shouldn’t have come at all. I knew it wouldn’t be good for you and I came anyway.”

Victor shrugged. “Better than having the apartment to myself.”

Benji studied him for a moment. “Victor, will you please at least consider going to a psychiatrist? It’ll help you so much. And it’s not because you’re weak or you’re sick or broken or there’s something wrong with you. It’s because you went through something traumatic. And you deserve to live your life easily. Or, at least, as easily as you can.”

Victor sighed and leaned back so he was laying down. Benji followed suit and Victor instinctively curled up on his chest. Benji wrapped his arms protectively around his middle. Something in Victor’s chest eased. He felt so safe in Benji’s arms.

“I’ll consider it,” Victor said, “but I make no promises about whether or not I’ll go.”

“Fair enough,” Benji said back and kissed his head. “Just… please consider it. And, hey, Victor?”

“Yeah?”

“You promise you’ll tell me if anything I ever do makes you uncomfortable? Or if there is a situation or something that makes you uncomfortable?”

Victor nodded. “Okay.”

Benji kissed his head again. “Good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls love me uwu


	23. Empty Picture Frames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think y'all understand that I work so hard on these chapter titles I have a whole list and spend like 5 mins before I write the chapter just perusing like ok what name for this chapter like y'all I put too much effort into this

Victor had another nightmare last night.

He stayed still for another four hours, watching the light shift across the room, watching the shades slowly go from black to grey to dark blue to lighter blue to orange to yellow. He really used to love sunrises. Now they just reminded him of all the sleep he lost.

Around 6:00, he pulled himself out of bed, exhaustion settled in his bones. His mom was there in the kitchen, making Adrian his lunch. She glanced over at him and shook her head. 

“Mijo, you’re staying home today,” She told him. “I want to keep an eye on you a little longer.”

Victor frowned. “What about your piano lessons?”

She shrugged and chastised Adrian for being on the tablet while eating, though it was a half hearted attempt at best. “Usually I don’t have too many clients during the day on Monday’s. You’ll be fine.”

Victor nodded and sat on the couch. Adrian alternated between talking about a new magic trick and stuffing his face while Pilar complained about not being able to stay home, too, and for once, Victor did nothing. He sat there and watched his mother tell Adrian to eat his breakfast and tell Pilar she was  _ going to school, Pilar, yes you do have to.  _

Isabel took Adrian to school and Felix stopped by to pick up Pilar (he gave Victor a long hug when learning he’d stay home again), leaving Victor alone in the apartment long enough to pass out on the couch in front of an episode of Paw Patrol.

He woke up again around 11:00 to his mother telling someone to wash their hands and gently shaking Victor awake. 

“Hey mi amor,” she said softly, “I have a piano lesson if you want to go to your room and sleep.”

Victor groaned. His stomach was queasy and he was honestly scared of being alone in his own room. “Do I have to?” He muttered.

“No, mijo,” she told him and kissed his head. “You can stay right here. It’s a beginner, though.”

Victor shrugged and rolled over. “I’m sure they’ll be great.”

Isabel chuckled softly and stroked his hair while his mother’s student came back. 

“Alright,” Isabel said, “let’s get started.” She briefly told him about Victor, her son, who didn’t sleep well last night so he’s taking a mental health day. 

The guy chuckled. “Wow, if I asked my mom to take the day off because I didn’t sleep she’d kill me.”

Isabel laughed politely. “Normally I would, but it’s a special situation.”

Victor rolled over and watched the guy shrug. “Well, can’t argue with that.”

He watched as Isabel asked the man, Donny, she called him, if he could remember where the C’s were, then the D’s, E’s, and so on until they got back to B. 

“Good!” Isabel cheered. “Now, what about C3?”

Donny played a C4. Isabel made a small noise. “Not quite, Donny. That’s C4, or middle C. Down an octave is C3. Play it for me?”

C3. “Perfect!”

Victor watched the lesson go on, watched his mom gently guide the man’s hands on the keyboard, watched him slowly speed up as he went from key to key. Isabel had him start learning a song. He was beaming the whole time, his eyes lighting up as he slowly learned to make music.

All too soon, the lesson was over, and the man’s calming presence was gone. Victor wasn’t sure why he came to like him when they hadn’t even exchanged a word, but, nevertheless, he found himself lamenting over his departure. 

Isabel sat down on the couch with him, stroking his hair softly. “How you doing, mi amor?”

Victor shrugged. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess.”

Isabel nodded, taking in his words carefully. “Benji told me yesterday you said you’d consider therapy. Have you thought about it yet? I think it’d be really good for you, Victor.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, it just doesn’t seem like it’ll help. Aren’t nightmares a subconscious thing?”

Isabel bit her lip and shrugged. “Well, they do have to do with how you feel during the day.”

He shook his head again, rolling over so he could tuck himself against the couch cushions. “I don’t know, Mami. Maybe I’ll consider it.”

“Victor,” she said, “I really think you should try it, even just once.”

“Mom, no.”

“Honey, you can get a lot from it.”

“No! I don’t need it.” Victor sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the couch. “I don’t have some stupid mental thing, and I don’t need a therapist to tell me I’m fucked up.”

Isabel scolded him. “You are not fucked up, Victor. You are a person and you almost died. Someone almost killed you!”

“‘Someone?’” Victor stood. “Really, Mom? You can’t even say his name?”

“Well, I don’t know if it’ll trigger you to hear it, or--”

“No, Mom!” She jumped when he yelled. “It won’t trigger me because there is nothing to be triggered about! I’m fine and I’m sick of all of you treating me like I’m not!”

Isabel had tears in her eyes. God, Victor was so sick of seeing people crying. “But, Victor, don’t you want to be able to sleep without having nightmares?’ Her voice cracked, but she didn’t pay it any attention. “Don’t you want to be able to do things without getting overwhelmed? I see you, miji, and I see you suffering, and I don’t--”

“I’m not suffering!” He bellowed. His mother sobbed. Victor destroyed everything he touched. “I’m fine, I don’t care about this, I am fucking fine, Mom! I don’t see any therapist or anything! Stop trying to shove that shit down my throat!”

He stormed out, his throat tight and his body aching, his mother’s sobs chasing him all the way to his bedroom door. He slammed it shut, keeping the sounds of her wailing out, but still the ghosts of what he’d already heard haunted him.

Victor destroyed everything he touched.

Victor destroyed everything he touched.

Victor destroyed every damn thing he fucking touched.

Everyone was just looking out for him, and he had the nerve to yell in their faces. His mother was so scared. 

Victor remembered when he’d broken his arm at age eight, the fear in her eyes and the wailing of Pilar at the sight of his bone sticking out. Armando laughed and said, “It doesn’t hurt that bad, right?”

And for his sister, for his mother, for his father, for everyone, he looked Armando in the eyes and said, “No.”

Victor looked over at the pictures he’d taped up on his wall. Since then, he’d gotten picture frames for them. He made sure to get the right size, and got a few extras just in case. And yet, he never hung them. He just had them, plain, impersonal, the pictures on the wall, the frames in a box. He never had the energy to change that anymore. Maybe he’d ask Benji to do it, or Felix. Maybe Jack. 

Victor wished he could make his mother smile again like she was in that picture. She was so beautiful, so carefree. Instead, all he did was make her cry.

He ventured out of his bedroom slowly, his chest squeezing uncomfortably at the sight of his mother on the couch, trying desperately to sob in silence.

“Mami?” He called out carefully.

Isabel looked up, wiping the tears from her face. “Yes, mi amor?”

He gingerly sat down next to her. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m really sorry, Mom.” He told her. “Lo siento.”

She looked over at him and gave a small smile. “It’s okay, mi amor. I know it’s a stressful time with the case and the nightmares…” She sighed. “I’m just so worried about you, Victor. I hate watching you battle your own mind all the time. We sit here every night and watch the same Disney movies because it’s all you can take. Don’t you think you need something?”

Victor bit his lip in thought. “I’m managing.” Isabel’s face fell, and Victor jumped in, “But if things get worse, I’ll go, okay?”

“Promise me?”

He nodded. “I promise, Mami.” He pulled her against his chest with one arm, and they stayed there for a while. Victor needed his mom. He needed his life to be a bit more sapphire blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give some love and comments pls


	24. A Million Little Paper Cuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An easy hike among the mountains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I do know what that summary means, no, I will not explain it to you

“Well,” Anna Hirsch said with a warm smile, “you must be Mister Victor Salazar, the center of the case?”

Victor wasn’t sure how to answer that. Already, he was overwhelmed just by being here in this room. He shook her hand to be polite. “Uh, I guess.”

He glanced around her office. Two of the four walls were bookshelves filled with both, well, books, and tons and tons of knicknacks. Ms. Hirsch said something and took her seat while Victor got distracted by a little Funko pop of Hermione. 

Ms. Hirsch smiled softly. “You read Harry Potter?”

Victor nodded. “Yeah, when I was little.”

Her smile widened a bit and she glanced between him and the little statue. “Come,” she said finally, “we have much to discuss.”

Victor took his seat between his two mothers, each of them instinctively covering one of his hands with their own once he was comfortable. Victor wasn’t sure why either one of them did that, but both Emily and Isabel were so very protective of him every time he sat beside him. He was beyond grateful for it. 

“Okay,” Ms. Hirsch said, “first thing’s first, Victor, as I told both Emily and Isabel, you can just call me Anna. And, above all, I’m here to support you and your claim and get you the justice you deserve. I’m here as your ally. Okay?”

Victor nodded, but stayed silent. Whether he was calling her by a nickname or Supreme Lawyer Hirsch, he’d still be terrified to talk to her. 

“Okay, good,” she shuffled some papers around. “So, what I want to do here today is just get you in the loop and make sure you’re okay with everything and also try to get some semblance of a testimony in order. I’ll be doing this later with Benjamin Campbell, your partner?”

Victor nodded again. “Benji.”

“Benji, yes,” she repeated, rifling through some notes. “Good. But for now I just want to get your end together. So, since you’re a minor and you’re going through a lot, for the most part we have been able to get as much evidence as possible together. You don’t go to therapy or a psychiatrist, correct?”

Victor furrowed his brows. What business was it of hers? Was she just trying to shame him into admitting his brain was faulty, too?

She glanced up at him, then, upon seeing his face, explained, “We could use your receipts and insurance claims along with the diagnosis as evidence of emotional trauma, but if not, we can do without.” She nodded to herself and wrote something down. Victor tried his best to read it upside down:  _ No psych evidence. _ She underlined it twice.

“Okay,” she said next, putting her pen down, “so, here’s what we have so far. I’m going to run the evidence by you, and if you have something you think we missed before we take our statement, we can get that in order as well.” 

Victor tried his best to listen as she gave various pieces of evidence, speaking about the relevance of each one and how they’d use it. They had pictures of Victor’s injuries from the attack during Spring break, and they’d managed to pull video evidence from the rec center from both the night of that attack and the first one. Victor was surprised they’d been able to get it. 

“Jeff, the person at the rec who’d helped you was the one who saved the tapes,” Anna explained upon noticing his confusion. He just nodded and they moved on. 

They had video footage of both attacks, and they’d have testimonies from both victims, Benji’s dad, Isabel and Pilar, Andrew, Felix, and Lake who had apparently been in the loop the whole time via Felix and he  _ never told him _ , Jeff, Emily, Simon, Bram, Jack, and the doctor who’d helped Emily on that favor. 

Victor stared at the mess of papers and images spread on the table in front of him, lost. It seemed like a pretty compelling case. 

“Can you think of anything else?” Anna asked. “It’s okay if you can’t. We can just take your testimony and be done with it.”

Victor was so very overwhelmed.

“Can you give us a minute, Anna,” Emily asked. Anna nodded and left, giving Victor a small smile as she did. 

“It’s a lot, isn’t it, Victor?” Emily asked quietly, a hand rubbing gently over his shoulder.

He nodded. “It’s like my life is just… right here. On paper. So that people can decide if I was hit or not.”

“I know, honey,” Emily said back and kissed his head.

“We’re here for you,” Isabel added, squeezing his hand once. Victor squeezed back three times. She brought his hand to her mouth and kissed the back.

“You want me to bring her back in?” Emily asked next. “Or do you want another minute?”

Victor took a few deep breaths. “When is the trial?”

Emily and Isabel exchanged a look over his head. “A couple weeks,” Isabel said. “Why?”

Victor didn’t have any more time. He needed to do this now, today. 

He sat up straight, gathering himself. “Bring her in.”

Emily kissed his head one more time, then grabbed Anna from the hall. 

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s beat a bastard’s ass. Legally.”

Victor nodded and muttered, “Hell yeah.”

***

It was 2 in the morning, and no, Victor was not going back to sleep. 

He knew it wasn’t fair. He knew he shouldn’t do it.

He called Benji.

“Hey,” Benji answered on the third ring. He sounded exhausted. “What’s up?”

Victor picked at a thread in his sweats. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah,” He said quietly.

Benji sighed. “I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t deserve this.”

Victor shrugged, though Benji couldn’t see him. “It is what it is.”

Silence.

“Did I wake you?”

“Uh,” Benji gave a little chuckle, “sorta. I was doing homework and I guess I fell asleep. I’m kinda glad you called. I think I have a vagina printed on my face from where I was sleeping on a diagram.”

Victor laughed softly. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Benji sighed again. “Uh, well, I’m not sure I want this photographed but, well, anything for you, boo.”

Victor laughed again while he heard Benji shuffling around, then his phone buzzed with a text. He opened the image and started cackling. “Oh my God, yeah. That’s a vagina.”

Right on Benji’s cheek, clear as day, was the diagram of a female reproductive system. It was so clear that Victor could see where the urethra was labeled, if the word itself was backwards. 

“Yeah,” Benji said. “Closest I’ll ever get again.”

Victor was sent into a whole new fit of giggles. He could picture Benji’s soft smile, the way he always smiled when he’d successfully made a sad Victor belly-laugh. 

“I love your laugh,” Benji said softly. “It’s a good laugh.”

Victor pursed his lips, somehow shy. “I love yours.”

Benji chuckled softly, but otherwise said nothing.

“Do you need to get back to sleep? Victor asked. 

Benji yawned, but said, “No, sleep is for the weak. I’d much rather stay up with you.”

Victor smiled and leaned back against his pillows. “That’s really sweet, Benji, but you don’t have to do that. You should sleep.”

“Nuh-uh.” Benji said. There was a muffled crash. “You’re awake, I’m awake.”

Victor bit his lip, once again overcome by a strange bashfulness. “Thank you, Benji.”

“Of course,” Benji said earnestly. “I love you.”

He said it so matter-of-factly. He made it seem like the easiest thing in the world. 

“I love you too,” Victor whispered, “More than anything.”

They were silent until Victor let out an undeniable yawn. 

“Do you want to try to get some sleep, Vic?” Benji asked softly.

Victor rubbed at his eyes. “Kinda.”

“Okay,” there was a rustling on Benji’s end. “Lay back, get comfy.”

Victor did as he was told. 

“Listen to me. I’m gonna read you a bedtime story. And then, I’m going to stay on the phone with you all night, and if you ever need me, if you have a nightmare and need to talk, you just say so. I’m gonna stay up until I know you’re asleep, okay?”

Victor nodded, even though Benji couldn’t see. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Of course. I love you. Okay. Ready?”

Victor nestled into his pillows, put the phone on the charger and on speaker, then closed his eyes. “Ready.”

“Okay. Once upon a time, there was a magic castle…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave comments there is a complete lack of comments on the last three chapters it is breaking my little heart pls I need your love and affection to Thrive and Write 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺


	25. An Eternity in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ;)

The apartment was empty, and in the silence of Victor’s bedroom, he wondered if there was a world where maybe Victor and Benji weren’t perfect together. 

It had been three days since the first night Benji stayed up on the phone with him, and since then, they’d done it every night since. Victor’s nightmares did not go away, not really, but he was able to go back to sleep after. If he had a nightmare at midnight, he’d talk to Benji until 1:00, and then feel safe enough to go back to sleep. He was more awake than he’d been in a while. In fact, his whole body was. He was back to getting more than two hours of sleep each night max, and it showed. Benji, however, looked the same as he always did, which led to Victor finding out that Benji just never sleeps. Maybe Benji was too powerful.

Benji slumped over dramatically onto Victor’s lap, groaning in frustration. “Why were you exempt from the biology exam and I wasn’t?”

“Uh, maybe because Ms. Thomas hates children?” Victor suggested. 

Benji laughed softly. “Yeah, sounds about right.” He sighed heavily. “I want a kiss break.”

Victor’s eyebrows jumped up, and Benji laughed harder. “A what?” 

“A kiss break,” Benji said, sitting up and turning to look at Victor. “We take a break from the boring stuff and kiss.” Benji had such a mischievous look on his face. 

Victor leaned forward and pressed a featherlight kiss to Benji’s lips, trying to curb a teasing smile. “Like this?”

Benji narrowed his eyes at Victor. Obviously, Victor’s attempt at suppressing his grin was not enough; Benji undoubtedly saw right through him. 

He bit his lip. “I was thinking more like this.” He answered, and leaned forward to kiss Victor again. 

Victor gasped at the force of it, deep and lustful, and kissed back with the same fervor he felt in Benji. He grasped at Benji’s hips, swallowing a small groan as he did. Benji got up on his knees while Victor stayed on his butt, opening his legs to let Benji settle between them. Benji cupped Victor’s face with both hands while Victor pawed at Benji’s hips, trying desperately to get him closer and get the friction he so desperately needed. 

Benji pulled back swiftly. “Are you sure about this?” Every trace of teasing left Benji’s face. He was completely serious. “Victor, I don’t want to hurt you again. I want this, too, but we have to be rational here. Are you sure you can do this?” 

Victor knew that, right now, whatever answer he gave Benji, he’d take. And right now he was giving him the option to stop, to keep from going too far, to keep from slipping back into the paralyzed state he’d gotten stuck in for days after the last time they got together like this. So, Victor thought about it. 

On the one hand, he was in the mood, and he trusted Benji more than anything. He was more awake than ever, more ready than ever. Plus, they had the whole apartment to themselves for hours. On the other hand… anything could happen, and he could slip. But then, anything could happen, ever. 

Victor nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I’m sure. I feel good and I want you.”

Benji studied his face for another couple seconds, and he must have seen the resolution in Victor’s face, because he nodded, too, and kissed Victor again. 

Victor lowered them so he was on his back, Benji holding himself precariously over him. He was holding himself on his hands and knees, and try as he may, each time Victor thrusted up, Benji’s hips were too far away for any friction. He groaned in frustration, and pulled back in retaliation. Benji pulled back, too, and Victor pulled off his shirt in one quick movement. He took a moment to ogle his boyfriend, the telltale mark of an old scar at his hip. Benji pushed Victor’s jacket off his shoulders, then pulled his shirt off as Victor lifted himself up. Even still, Benji was leaning back far enough that his pelvis was too far away from Victor’s. He was aching for some friction, any friction against his half-hard dick. 

Benji kissed him again, swallowing up a surprised gasp. He pushed Victor gently, and he fell back bouncing on the bed a bit. Benji was, once again holding himself up like the goddamn tease he was, and Victor had just about had it. He growled in frustration, then flipped them. He straddled a shocked-looking Benji, leaned over and kissed that blankness right off his face, then grinded into his pelvis. Benji met him, making a sound so animalistic and deep that it went right to Victor’s gut.

Benji fought to get his hand between their hard cocks, unzipping Victor’s pants as far as he could. Victor leaned back and undid his pants, shoving them down just as Benji was doing the same. Victor came back to meet him once they both got their jeans off, and Victor was feeling jittery. Benji had seen Victor before, they’d done this before. Why was Victor still so scared?

Benji brought up a hand to cup Victor’s face. “Hey, Vic,” He said breathlessly. “It’s okay, it’s just me. We can take our time.”

Victor nodded, shifting. His dick brushed just barely against Benji’s and they each were only wearing their boxers. Victor gasped at the feeling, and looked back at Benji, whose eyes were roaming wildly over Victor’s face and body. 

This was Benji. This was nothing new. This was for the both of them.

Victor shifted again, this time on purpose, and their dicks brushed together again. Benji moaned, forcing his breaths to even. Victor dismounted from Benji’s lap, and it seemed he knew exactly what Victor wanted, because he sat up and scooched back so he was sitting up against the back headboard. He lifted his hips and shucked off his underwear just as Victor did. And then they were both there, naked, hard, staring at each other. Victor kept staring at him, his eyes snagging on Benji’s scars. He wondered if Benji had as hard of a time as Victor did accepting his own scars. Did he learn to accept them the same way Victor did? 

Benji’s breathing hitched the longer he stared at Victor. “C’mere,” he whispered. 

Victor swallowed and straddled Benji’s lap again, whimpering softly at the feeling. He loved have Benji right between his thighs, doing whatever the hell he fucking pleased. God, Victor was weak with the feeling of being so close to Benji’s whole body. 

Benji angled Victor’s jaw with one hand so they kissed again while the other reached between them and took hold of Victor’s cock. Victor gasped, then moaned softly. He reached down with one hand, blindly fumbling toward Benji. Once he got him in his hand, everything locked into place. 

Benji broke the kiss, gasping for breath. “You don’t have lube, right?”

Wordlessly, breathlessly, Victor shook his head. 

Benji nodded. “Spit it is.” And with that, he spat into his hand and took Victor back into his hand. Victor was seeing spots. He followed suit, shyly spitting into his hand before gripping Benji’s dick again. Benji wrenched Victor back into a searing kiss, and for a moment he thought he felt panic, but he assured himself he was fine. Benji would take care of him. 

Victor matched his rhythm to Benji’s, whimpering as Benji picked up the pace. Benji was doing this thing where he swiped his thumb over the slit every time he got to the head, using a new bead of precome to slick up Victor’s cock. Victor tried to do the same, but he was not as used to jacking off other boys as Benji obviously was. 

Victor very pointedly steered himself away from that train of thought.

Almost like a reflex, Victor’s hips thrusted down against Benji’s. They both let out twin groans, so he did it again. His hips stuttered as he did his best to maintain both his thrusts and his hand while Benji was working magic with his tongue in Victor’s mouth. Fuck, Victor definitely would not last much longer like this. His whole body was drenched in a sweet heat. There was a tension coiling up in the pit of his stomach, getting ready to snap like a rubber band. 

Benji did something with the flick of his wrist, and that was all she fucking wrote for Victor, who let out a big moan, his hips picking up their pace as he came. He tucked his face into the crook of Benji’s neck as he came, and he felt come dribbling over his hands, both of them overwhelmed by their own orgasms, moaning into the heat of the bedroom. Thank God no one else was home. 

It took another minute for them both to come back into themselves, panting into each other’s skin. Victor was the first to pull away. He was sticky with come cooling on his stomach and hand, though Benji wasn’t much better off, covered in his own hefty amount of come.

Victor fell against the pillows while Benji reached over and got out the wipes. He handed Victor two, and they both did their best to clean up. Though, the both of them were so tired Victor wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up later and noticed some spots he’d missed.

Benji threw away their used wipes, then lay down with Victor and allowed him to cuddle against his chest. 

“Should we put on clothes?” Benji asked with a yawn.

Victor pouted. “I don’t want to.”

“Okay,” Benji said with a laugh. He kissed Victor’s head and asked next, “Are you okay?”

Victor nodded, closing his eyes. “Better than okay.” He squeezed Benji around his middle. “I love you.”

Benji carded his fingers through Victor’s hair as he slipped away, and the last thing he heard was, “I love you, too, baby.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)))))))
> 
> leave some comments they fuel me


	26. Or in Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *****TW: PTSD ATTACK*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary at the bottom!! Please read with discretion!!

Victor made it into the biology room early, sliding into his seat beside Benji’s empty one. His favorite period of the day, besides lunch, was biology. Everyone was in the class. They were able to just sit together. Victor was able to hold Benji’s hand and no one cared. 

Mia and Lake came in, wrinkling their noses in distaste. Victor tilted his head, but they both just shook their heads. Andrew came in not long after, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he passed. 

“What does he think he’s doing?” He asked them. 

Mia and Lake shrugged, but Victor just glanced at the three of them. “What are you guys talking about?”

Andrew looked at him incredulously. “Do you not have a nose? Didn’t you smell it as you passed?”

Victor shrugged and shook his head. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benji walked in, smiling at Victor once he saw him. Then, his smile soured and he hurried over to the. “What is he doing?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Victor demanded. 

Benji tilted his head at him. “That kid’s cologne.”

“So strong,” Lake added, shivering. 

Felix made his way over to them. “Hey, guys, how are you? I am currently wishing I didn’t have a nose.”

Victor sighed. He glanced around the room. Everyone seemed to be giving someone up front a wide berth. Victor rolled his eyes. “I don’t smell it.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and gestured him forward. “Go see for yourself.”

“Or go smell for yourself,” Felix said with a snicker. 

Victor rolled his eyes fondly, then picked up his finished homework and made a show of walking past the kid. He took a discreet whiff and—

And Armando was in front of him, his fist cocked back, ready to strike—

Victor stumbled back into the counter, crying out and squeezing his eyes shut. He opened his eyes again and saw Ms. Thomas’ desk covered in papers.

He took a deep breath, once again hit by the deep scent of cologne, his father's cologne, he was still here, he was here for him, ready to kill him—

“Victor?” It sounded like Benji, but really Victor couldn’t be sure over the loud harshness of his own breaths. He touched him, and Armando touched him, and he’d kill him. He was here, so close Victor could smell him, smell the cologne choking him, blocking his airways. 

Or maybe that was Armando choking him. Maybe he was here, killing him as Victor was trying desperately to breathe. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, whimpering, shaking, waiting. He sank to the floor, his hands up, covering his face.

“Victor?” Someone touched him, and he flinched back so hard he hit his head on the counter. He cried out. Armando was hurting him. Victor gripped Armando’s arms tight, digging his nails in, but all he felt was a sharp sting in his own forearms in shapes of little crescents.

“Victor, stop it!” Benji said. 

He opened his eyes, and Armando was in front of him, face of fury. 

“No!” He shouted, pleading. “Please, stay away from me. Dad, please, stay away. I’ll go away please—“

“Victor, he’s not here!”

He shut his eyes again, and when he opened them, he was just there, in the biology room. His heart was beating a mile a minute, Ms. Thomas was trying to corral everyone outside. So many cameras were pointed at him. 

“Stop fucking recording!” Andrew shouted at them. Victor flinched, and when he opened his eyes again, he was outside, in the rain, in his tux. Someone was behind him, he was approaching him, he was going to kill him--

“No,” he whimpered, “no, please don’t hurt me.”

He blinked again, and he was back in the room. People were leaving. Benji was on the phone. Victor was so, so scared. 

He crawled under the nearest table, whimpering from the pain. He lay down on the floor, and his dad was above him, punching him, hitting him, calling him a faggot and a queer. 

He screamed. Benji was shouting his name, and a door opened somewhere, and maybe Armando had a friend, maybe he’d finish the job, maybe—

“Victor,” Benji cooed, “it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Victor shook his head, squeezing tears from his eyes. “Please let me go, Papi. Por favor déjame ir.”

“Victor, he’s not here,” Felix tried to say. But that was wrong. Because Victor could smell him. He found him in school. Victor always had a suspicion he might do that.

Everytime he opened his eyes, Armando was there, hovering over him. He was so, so angry. 

Victor was practically vibrating as he did his best to shield himself. He was covered in blood, his body a mess of bruises and wounds. He could hear Benji crying. Was Armando killing him, too?

“Victor,” Ms. Thomas said calmly, “listen to me very closely, okay? Do you know where you are?”

Victor whimpered loudly, crying out, “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do,” she countered. “Think carefully. Victor, where are you? Not your mind, your body. Where is your body?”

He did his best to swallow past the pain, past Armando’s hands strangling his throat, past his cologne blocking his windpipe. “I don’t--”

“You do know,” she said, resolute. “Victor, where are you?”

Despite how hard he fought it, the world consumed him again, and he cried out in pain as the ghost of a fist landed in his stomach. He groaned. He thought he might vomit. 

“Victor,” this time it was Mia. “Victor, think. Please. Tell me where your body is.”

He gasped. “I-- uh, I think…” It hurt so bad to focus, to answer their question. “School?” He whispered. He couldn’t get any air in. He was dying. “He’s choking me.”

“No one’s choking you,” Ms. Thomas said. “No one’s touching you, Victor. We’re all over a foot away.”

He shook his head, another wave of vertigo crashing over him. He gagged. “He’s here.”

Victor could feel the pavement against his back. But wasn’t he at school?

“Victor, he’s not here. Where did you say you were?” She asked. 

A whimper sounded somewhere on his right, a high-pitched sound, like a scared puppy. Belatedly, he realized it was him. “Um, school? Right?”

“Good, Victor.” Ms. Thomas said softly. “Where in school? Where are you?”

He squeezed his eyes harder, then forced them open. It took a second for him to identify the black rectangle above him. “Under a table?”

Ms. Thomas chuckled softly. “Right. Where?”

“I, uh…” Despite how hard it hurt, he thought about the question very carefully. He needed to answer Ms. Thomas’ question. If he didn’t answer the question, he’d get hurt. Armando was here and he’d hurt him and he’d die Victor would die Victor would die he would die--

“Victor!” It was Armando’s voice, he would kill him.

“I’m sorry, Dad, I’ll stay away,” Victor pleaded. “Please, let me go, I’ll stay away, I’ll stay away from everyone, I’ll go away--”

Victor couldn’t stop sobbing, but he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t let Armando find him. He was hiding. Armando was here. He’d kill him.

“I’ll go away!” He screamed, pleading with his whole body. “I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stay away from everyone, I’ll stay away from Adrian, I--”

“Victor, you don’t need to do that,” Ms. Thomas butt in. “Victor, honey, relax. He’s not here. Armando is in jail. He’s not going to hurt you again.”

He groaned, choking back vomit. “He’s here.”

“He’s not here.”

“He’s here!”

“No, Victor, he’s not here.”

“He’s--” something touched his hand. Victor flinched at first, but it was so gentle, he reached out for it again. It had a strange texture, and it was cold.

A basketball.

Victor curled around it, closing his eyes tight. He was wheezing so hard he could barely hear over the sound of his own strangled breaths. Armando was choking him. 

“Victor,” Benji said softly. “Open your eyes.”

Victor shook his head. If he opened his eyes then Armando would get him. Armando would know he was alive and he would kill him for real.

“Victor open your eyes, baby.” Benji whispered. “Please.”

It felt impossible, but he finally opened his eyes and looked up. 

Benji was laying beside him, over a foot away, his hand outstretched to Victor. “Baby, the only people in here are you and me, Ms. Thomas, Mia, Andrew, Felix, and Lake. Just us. He’s not here. He’ll never get to you again. I promise. I will never, ever let him hurt you again.”

Victor stared at him. Benji would never lie. He would never lie to Victor. He was telling the truth. Armando was gone. 

He reached toward Benji and took his hand. They stayed there as Ms. Albright and the nurse made their way inside. And when he realized it was over, when he realized he was safe, and everyone was safe, Victor did the only thing he could do.

Victor burst into tears and crawled into Benji’s opened arms, hugging the basketball to himself as Benji rubbed his back and kissed his head and told him how proud of him he was, how good he did. The nurse sat at his head and made them sit up and made Victor drink some water, and procured a plastic bag from her pocket for when Victor started feeling nauseous. 

Benji held him while he threw up, rubbing his back and coaxing him through it even as he cried harder. Andrew held the basketball. Mia and Lake told Ms. Albright what happened while Ms. Thomas went after her class, and Felix called Emily and told her what happened. Ms. Albright called Isabel. The nurse gave Victor a mint and another cup of water after he got through his dry heaving. Somewhere along the way, someone decided Victor would stay at Emily’s for the night and everyone in the room could go home early if they liked. 

Everyone walked Victor to the front office. He just did his best to breathe.

Emily picked Victor up, and after enough deliberation, Benji decided he’d stay at school and let Victor get some time to himself to do what he needed. He assured him he’d visit him later and stay the night if he wanted.

Emily took Victor to her house and got him set up in the guest room. He showered, then threw on a pair of Simon’s sweats and passed out in the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Someone is wearing strong cologne no one likes but Victor doesn't smell it. His friends tell him to go get a whiff, so he does. It's his father's cologne, and it triggers a full-on PTSD attack in the middle of class. Andrew sort of pulls him out with a basketball. Kinda weird idk. The nurse helps him out, and Emily picks him up so Victor can stay the night at her place instead of his apartment. Benji says he'll visit later.


	27. Ink Blots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I've been MIA I've just been in a really bad place and it's been really tough to write and on that note I would like to say the chapter after this one sucks but I don't know what to do about it and this one kinda does too but I also don't know what to do about it. So so sorry

The next day, instead of going to school, Isabel took Victor to a psychiatrist.

She had apparently been on the phone with every mental health professional she could find since she’d gotten the initial call about Victor’s breakdown. She found one who took patients in situations like these at 8 a.m. appointments. The last thing Victor wanted to do was see a doctor, but he’d promised his mother he would go if it got worse. He supposed this was probably worse.

Benji apparently also got the day off school. Somewhere along the way, he’d apparently opened up to his father about everything going on, and despite the strained relationship, he seemed to sympathize with his son. He seemed to understand the pain he must be in.

They were texting back and forth since six that morning. Benji woke up early for him. As much as Victor wished he didn’t have to, he appreciated it so much. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it through this without Benji.

Victor was waiting in the lobby beside his mother. It was dead quiet aside from the loud click-clack of the receptionist speed-typing on the other side of the desk. The light filtered in through the windows, blinding him. The room, he supposed, was supposed to be calming, but the atmosphere only served to put him even more on edge. 

His phone buzzed with a message from Simon.  **Hey, Vic, how are you? Mom told us about what happened yesterday. Are you okay?**

Victor sighed and typed back,  **I don’t really know. I’m in a waiting room for a psychiatrist. I wish my life weren’t this hard.**

Simon immediately messaged back,  **Victor you will be okay. It may be hard now, but this right here is so that it will get easier. You got this. We love you so much. We’re all here rooting for you and waiting to hear back whatever news you’ve got. We’ll be here in whatever way you need us to be.**

Victor reread the message two more times, then typed a quick thanks and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. The receptionist took him back to a little room with a couple chairs and a scale. He felt extremely closed in.

She muttered soft words and made jokes as Victor sat, trembling in his chair. She took his blood pressure twice, then his weight and height, before congratulating him on a job well done and sending him back out to his mom. Isabel gave him a soft smile and carded a hand through his hair. He was already exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Benji messaged him,  **Hey baby how are things going?**

Victor typed,  **I’m still in the waiting room :/**

**Thank you for staying up to check on me <3**

In return, he got a gorgeous selfie of Benji. He was shirtless, and his hair was a mess, but he was holding a steaming cup of coffee and wearing a brilliant smile. In the background, his father was puttering around the kitchen. The caption read,  **Oh, please, I’m having a grand time. Dad’s making us pancakes. He took the morning off, too. He’s visiting my uncle later tho I think.**

Victor smiled and saved the selfie to his phone.  **That’s nice.**

Benji replied,  **yeah :))**

The door to the rooms opened, and a dark-skinned middle-aged man came out with a bright smile. “Victor?”

Victor sighed, once again shaking with fear. He wrote to Benji,  **Gtg. They’re calling me back :(**

Benji sent back,  **it’ll be great!!! Text me when you’re done so I can come over if you want.**

**I love you <3**

Victor smiled and slipped his phone into his pocket, standing. The doctor held a hand out to Isabel, offering them both another warm smile. “Hi, I’m Doctor Kusheen.”

Victor flinched as he held a hand to him. “Uh, Victor.” He said, easing a hand cautiously into the doctor’s. They shook once. Victor wondered if the doctor could feel Victor’s hand trembling as they did.

Doctor Kusheen nodded and led them back to his office. “Okay,” He said, “so let’s just get a couple things out of the way. Victor, you’re sixteen?”

Victor nodded. Doctor Kusheen followed up with a couple more standard questions, gender, pronouns, race, and, eventually, sexuality.

Victor blanched. “Why do you need to know that?” He asked accusingly.

Doctor Kusheen shifted in his seat. “Well, there are certain things kids in the LGBT community experience that we need to watch out for. Higher depression levels and suicide rates, sometimes more at risk for abuse or addiction depending on the circumstances, and it also just helps to know exactly where the stems of your mental issues are coming from, and that could be a part of it.”

Victor could feel himself retreating into his own body like a militant pillbug. “I don’t like saying it.”

Isabel rested a hand on Victor’s arm. “He’s gay,” She told the doctor. Victor watched carefully for any signs of disgust or anger, but there were none. The doctor just nodded.

“So,” he said, “what brings you in today? Tell me what’s going on, Victor.”

Victor’s throat was tight. “I, uh, well…” 

Isabel ran her hand through his hair. “It’s okay, mi amor. He’s here to help.”

He nodded. “I, um… when I came out, my dad abused me and kicked me out.”

He could hear the tremble in his own voice, feel the quiver in his lower lip. It was getting harder to swallow. His eyes were burning.

Doctor Kusheen tilted his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, Victor. Really, I am.”

Victor nodded and blinked back tears. “I stayed with a friend for a while.”

The doctor typed something on his computer, swift movements over the keyboard. “What happened after that?”

“How detailed do you want it?”

“As detailed as you wanna tell me. The more details, though, the more I can help you.”

Victor let out a shaky sigh, and he told Doctor Kusheen about how scared he was all the time after that, how scared he was of hurting Benji so he pushed him away. He told him about his constant depression, constant ache, constant exhaustion, and about how he kept pushing people away. How things started looking up when Simon and co. came into town. He explained how he and Benji got back together, how he stayed at the Spiers’ during Spring break. He explained how, the first day, his father found him and tried to kill him. He explained how terrible he felt all the time after that, how hard it was to eat, to move, to breathe. He explained what happened after his mom took him back in. He explained his constant fear, his constant grappling with the past and the present, the case, the scars, the world. He told him about the dissociative episodes, the mental breakdowns. He explained, in as much detail as he could bring himself to give, the thing yesterday, whatever that was. He explained it as best he could. He was crying so damn hard. It seemed nearly impossible to breathe. 

Doctor Kusheen expressed his remorse and held out a box of tissues to Victor. He took one and wiped his nose; the doctor put the box on the desk between them.

“I’m so sorry, Victor,” he said softly. “I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you.”

Victor shrugged and sniffed, wiping his eyes with another tissue. “You just sort of take it.”

Doctor Kusheen nodded and pulled out a water bottle from a minifridge behind him and gestured to the trash can behind Victor. Once Victor threw the tissues away, he gave Victor the water. He thanked him and took a long pull, relaxing as he drank.

“So,” Doctor Kusheen continued, “I think it’d be best to go forward from here diagnosing you with PTSD and depression. You know what that means?”

Victor’s heart sank. He was faulty. There was something so very wrong with him, and now that was on paper for everyone to know. He felt like the Doctor had tattooed the word “broken” on his forehead in all capital letters. 

Doctor Kusheen and Isabel discussed medication. Victor didn’t pay attention. It didn’t matter.

He was broken.

He was broken.

He was broken.

***

**Hey, Benji, we’re leaving**

***

**Omw now. See you soon :***

***

Victor had his head in Benji’s lap, his fingers carding through Victor’s hair while Victor was tracing patterns on his knee. They were watching Happy Feet, and the more Victor paid attention the more he realized it was kind of just about gay penguins. Lots of them.

Benji traced a finger gently over the sensitive skin behind Victor’s ear. A siver went through him, and he swatted his hand away. “Benji, no.”

“Sorry,” Benji said, “I got distracted.”

Victor shrugged and they went back to their movie, but Victor didn’t really feel like watching anymore. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he was broken. How he was too messed up for Benji. How he wished he could die. 

“Victor, you’re making your upset scrunchie face, what’s wrong?”

Benji gently poked Victor’s mouth. 

“What?”

“You’re upset.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Victor sighed. “I just… the thing today.”

Benji nodded and paused the movie. “So you  _ do  _ want to talk about it.”

“I didn’t say that--”

“You didn’t have to. You’re upset, Vic, I know you. Whatever the doctor said, you didn’t like it.”

Victor sighed again and sat up. “He said I’m broken.”

Benji blanched. “ _ What? _ ”

“Well, okay, not exactly like that. It was definitely implied, though.”

Benji sighed and took Victor’s hands in his own. “Are you sure you weren’t just projecting? You do that sometimes.”

Victor shook his head. “He said I have PTSD and depression.” He sat back, exhausted. “I’m broken, Benji. He didn’t have to say it. He didn’t have to do anything. I’m broken.”

Benji smiled softly. “So he diagnosed you?”

Victor nodded sadly. 

Benji got up on his knees and kissed Victor softly. “That’s good, Vic. Really good.”

“How?”

“Because now you can get better.”

Victor stared at him. “I have no clue what you mean.”

Benji’s smile widened. “Victor, this is going to help you. You are going to get people who know how to help you so you can be happier.”

Victor bit his lip. He’d sort of forgotten that part. 

Sure, they identified the problem, but now they would help fix it. 

He gave Benji a tentative smile. “Does that mean no more nightmares?”

Benji kissed his forehead. “That means you can get a handle on your nightmares. And maybe, yeah. Maybe soon you won’t have any more nightmares.”

Victor’s smile widened, too, and he crashed into Benji’s chest. “I think I’m done with Happy Feet.”

“Okay,” Benji said, running a hand down Victor’s back. “What do you want to do then?”

Victor bit his lip, then leaned up and kissed Benji deeply. “Maybe something like this?”

Benji chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” 

Victor stood, took Benji by the hand, and led him behind closed doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give me love and support I need it so much uwu love you guys


	28. Fly to Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for Amos because he had a bad day yesterday and what if he had a bad day today idk so this is for him also bc he knows what motivation looks like
> 
> I love all of you I'm sorry this chapter sucks the next one is fantastic, if I do say so myself
> 
> Also I still miss @Vengi_Enthusiast and I hope that wherever they are, they are happy.

Victor wasn’t sure why, but the first day on his meds, he was so exhausted that he could barely move. He took the pill early, and as he was getting ready for school, it was getting harder and harder for him to put one foot in front of the other. It seemed nearly impossible to keep his eyes open. 

When Felix arrived at 6:45, Victor was falling asleep on his feet. He ignored it, though. He had to go to school. He had to see Benji again. 

Victor kept falling behind on their trek to school. They were only about twenty feet from his apartment building when he gave up. “I can’t do this,” he called. “I’m exhausted.”

Felix turned around, sympathetic. “Okay. Do you want me to walk you back?”

Victor shook his head. “I got this.”

Felix nodded, and both he and Pilar hugged him goodbye. Victor shuffled back to his apartment, barely able to make it up the stairs. 

“Victor?” Isabel asked. She was pulling Adrian out of the apartment by the hand to take him to school, but she stopped when she saw Victor. “What is it, mi amor?”

He sighed and allowed himself to be pulled to Isabel. She ran her hands over his arms and face as he told her, “I’m really tired, Mom.”

She nodded. “Okay, mijo, why don’t you stay home today?”

“Thanks,” he said, and made his way into his room, falling into his bed. He had enough thought to text Benji and let him know he wouldn’t be coming today, then passed out. 

***

He was standing on the ledge of a roof. The ground was so far down. It seemed like an eternity from here to there. The world stretched out for an eternity. 

“Do it,” Benji said from behind him. 

Victor turned to him, his feet slipping on gravel. “Do what?”

“Jump.” Benji said. 

Victor looked down, a pit opening in his gut. It weighed him down. He trembled in the frosty air up so high. “I don’t—“

“Jump,” this time it was Lake. 

“Do it,” Mia said from beside her. “You were never worthy of being alive.”

“Jump,” Benji urged. “ _Jump_.”

“Jump,” Felix said. 

Victor couldn’t figure out where everyone was coming from, but they were multiplying in front of him. “Jump. Do it. Jump.”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut, willing them away. The ground was so far down. He’d die. 

“Jump.”

“Jump.”

“Do it.”

“Jump.”

“Faggot, jump.”

“Jump.”

“ _Jump!_ ”

“ _No!_ ” Victor screamed, shocked by the sound of his own voice. Everyone went silent, staring at him with a blank expression. All he could hear were the sounds of his own heavy breathing. The air was getting thinner. It was getting harder to breathe. “No…” He whispered again, this time to himself. No one moved. They all stood still, faces blank, like robots who’d been turned off. 

Out of the corner of Victor’s eye was movement, and he flinched. Armando came rushing toward him, hands outstretched. In an attempt to get away from him, Victor leaned back. 

He fell over the ledge.

His body felt suspended in air, the wind whipping around him, and he screamed. The ground was approaching fast, and just as he was feet from the pavement, he pitched himself out of bed, landing himself on his bedroom floor in the process. He groaned just as his mom opened the door. 

“Victor, are you okay?” She asked, rushing to his side. 

He nodded, forcing himself to sit up. “Yeah, I, uh… just had a nightmare.”

Isabel gave him a sympathetic look and gently stroked his cheek. “Okay. Do you want to come eat?”

Victor shook his head. His stomach turned at the idea of food. “I think I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Isabel nodded. “Okay, mi amor.” She kissed his head and stood. “Come see me whenever you want and I’ll make you some lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” Victor said, nodding. He just wanted her to go away so he could react in peace. She blew him one last kiss, then left, closing his door behind him. 

Victor squeezed his eyes shut and sat back against his bed. He grabbed his phone so he could check the time (11:40) and scroll through TikTok, and found an onslaught of messages from Benji. 

**Hey Vic**

**Felix told me what happened. Are you ok?**

**Victor idk whats going on or what you need to hear but baby I love you so much and I’m gonna miss you like crazy today**

**Wish you were here :((((**

**Are you sleeping? You’re probably sleeping ://**

**We have to do pgs 147-150 for hw in bio**

**bb I miss you :((**

**Lunch is lame af without you here**

**Who will eat this other sandwich?**

Victor smiled as he scrolled through the texts. He wrote, **You still at lunch?**

Benji typed back immediately, **yes**

**How are you?**

**What happened?**

**If you wanna tell me**

**You don’t have to tell me**

**I love you completely either way**

Victor chuckled softly and sent, **Can we call?**

He’d barely hit send before his phone was vibrating in his hand with an incoming call from his boyfriend. He was like an impatient little puppy sometimes. 

“A little impatient, are we?” Victor asked, trying to laugh.

Benji sighed. Background noise was drifting away as he did. “Sorry, am I being rude?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Victor said. “I’m glad you’re here.” They were quiet for a moment as Benji was undoubtedly getting somewhere more private. “You have a while to talk?”

“Not too much longer,” Benji said back, “but I can skip if you need me to? Honestly, I’m sure they’d understand if I told them you needed me. They all have so much pity for us, which sucks, but we could get away with anything if we really tried.”

“That’s ok,” Victor said with a tiny laugh. 

“Are you sure?” Benji asked next, sounding a little upset as he did. “I have PE next period. I think it’s dodgeball.”

Victor smiled and picked at a thread in his jeans. They were sticking uncomfortably to his thighs and were sort of twisted weird, but he didn’t care right now. He couldn’t waste time with Benji. “Well, if you really want, I guess so.” He sighed. “I had a nightmare.”

Benji let out a tiny ‘oomph’ sound. Victor guessed he found a place to sit. “You wanna talk about it?”

Victor bit his lip and mulled it over. “I was on a rooftop. We all were. And you were all staring at me.”

“Who all?” Benji asked softly.

“Everyone,” Victor answered. “You, our friends, everyone from New York, my family, the Spiers… everyone, Benji.”

Benji swallowed audibly. “Okay. What happened?”

Victor rubbed a hand over his face. “You were all telling me to jump. Just, so angry, telling me to jump off.” Benji cursed under his breath, and Victor went on, “It was driving me insane, and eventually I said no.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And then everyone was staring at me. And then my dad was there.”

Benji cursed again. “Fuck, Victor.”

“Yeah. He, uh, he was about to push me off. I tried to dodge. And I fell.”

There was silence on both ends. The bell rang, and Benji cursed.

“Go,” Victor told him. “I’ll be okay.”

Benji didn’t say anything for a second, and then, “I love you, Victor.”

“I love you, too,” he said back. 

He waited for Benji to end the call, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “Please don’t jump, Victor.”

“I won’t,” Victor said, confused. He wasn’t sure what Benji was getting at, but he figured that was the best response to something as insane as that.

“Okay, I gotta go.” Benji stood with a grunt. “Remind me to never wear these pants again.”

“Are they the pants that make your ass look good? Did I miss the good ass pants?” Victor asked, sitting up.

“No, Victor, you didn’t miss the good ass pants,” Benji said with a breathy chuckle. “I couldn’t find another pair, so I threw these on. They don’t fit.”

“Do they make your ass look good?” Victor asked.

Benji sighed. “I don’t know, Victor.”

“Well, you should know that I’m going to ask these things.”

“ _Goodbye!_ ”

Victor smiled softly. “I love you.”

There was the smallest beat, then a quick, “Love you, too,” and Benji hung up. 

Victor sat back, closing his eyes. _Please don’t jump, Victor…_

***

Over the next four days, Victor felt nothing. He and Benji were together constantly, but even with him, Victor felt nothing.

Benji kissed him, and Victor felt nothing. 

Benji held him, and Victor felt nothing. 

Benji talked to him, laughed with him, loved him, and Victor felt nothing. 

The only thing was Victor didn’t have another nightmare since. So, he lived with the hole in his chest as long as he was able to sleep peacefully.

Today, as Benji sat with him on the couch, holding him and kissing him, Victor tried to feel happy. He tried to get comfortable, tried to relax. He tried to smile. But it just took too much energy. They watched a movie in silence. And when Benji went home, when he gave Victor one last concerned look and a sweet kiss goodnight, Victor was entirely indifferent. He didn’t feel like a person. He’d left his spirit behind somewhere else. Maybe Felix had taken it with him to school that first day, or Benji took it when he hung up the phone. Victor wanted it back.

On day five of the meds, of the static in his chest, he went to his first therapy appointment. He told her about everything from the initial move, all the way to the emptiness he carried with him now. 

“It could be your meds,” she told him. “Not everyone works with the first medication they’re put on. You may need a change.”

Victor bit his lip. “Will I need to live like this for the next month until I go back?”

The therapist shook her head. “I can get you an emergency appointment. If you’re going south, we can always make arrangements to fix it.” She shifted in her seat, “Now, about your dad…”

***

Victor’s psychiatrist put him on a new medication starting that next day. 

And when Victor saw Benji, he felt his usual joy.

When Victor kissed Benji, he felt that storm, that tidal wave take residence in his stomach.

When he cuddled with Benji, he felt a spark.

When he made out with Benji, well… something else was going south now.

There was a small gap in his chest. He was starting to understand it would always be there, but at least now it was a little wound instead of a gaping black hole.

***

Victor held tight to the railing. The rain was pouring, and the wind was whipping around him, threatening to throw him over the edge. If he turned around, his dad would push him off. He was behind him. He’d push him off. 

The rain was so cold. It washed over him, drenching him to the bone.

He whimpered aloud; it was getting harder to hold on. With the wind and the rain, his grip was starting to slip.

Benji’s voice was in his ear. _Please don’t jump, Victor…_

Victor wouldn’t jump.

He would fall.

His feet were lifting from the ground, and his hands were slipping from the railing. He would fall. He would die. The waters below were too rapid, the current too strong. There were too many rocks. He would die if he went over the edge.

And then, he went over.

Victor sat up in bed, gasping for air, drenched in a cold sweat. He was in his bed, in his room, in his home. The storm outside was strong. Lightning flashed, lighting up his room for just a moment. Then, thunder boomed, and he jumped.

His nightmares were back. He had nightmares again.

There was a small sound at his door, and he stared in fear, swallowing hard as he watched the knob turn slowly. His door creaked open, and his breathing went shallow. Oh, God, he would die, he was going to die, he--

“Victor?” Adrian whispered. “Can I come in?”

Victor sighed in relief, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yeah, Adrian, come on.”

Adrian closed the door behind him and ran to Victor’s bed, climbing in and cuddling close into Victor’s side.

“Scared of the storm?” Victor asked quietly.

Adrian shrugged. “No,” he said as he buried his face into Victor’s side. “I thought you might be.”

Victor laughed softly. Adrian and his excuses. “Well, you were right. I was.” Victor told him. “Think you can stay with me?”

Thunder boomed outside, and Adrian gasped. “Mhm,” he whimpered, his eyes wide with fear.

“Come on,” Victor said, and he pulled Adrian down onto his chest, laying his own head back on his pillows. 

Adrian cuddled close to Victor’s side, holding tight to his shirt. Victor hummed a lullaby their mother used to sing to them until he heard Adrian’s breaths even. He listened very carefully to his brother now, coupled with the sounds of the storm easing up, and he let himself fall back asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys I miss your comments I miss talking to you pls comment I miss you


	29. Beautiful and Brilliant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day with the boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me, actually writing wow that's crazy

When Isabel first asked Victor to babysit while she talked to the lawyer, Victor wanted to refuse. When she mentioned Benji joining him, he happily agreed. It was a Saturday, and the idea of spending a whole day with his adorable little brother and amazing boyfriend didn’t sound half bad. Pilar was at Mia’s, and Benji would be able to stay the night since Isabel would get home so late. Victor was excited to say the least.

When Benji came in, he kissed Victor softly, a small smile on his face, a warm greeting. He picked Adrian up and held him to his chest, the two bouncing with excitement. Victor watched them babble on, so very in love. 

It was still early, so Victor made the three of them pancakes with sides of cut fruit and chocolate chips. Benji puttered around the kitchen as the best (debatable) sous chef he could be, cutting the strawberries and bananas and washing the blueberries and also listening very intently to Adrian talk about a new magic trick his friend told him about. Benji said something about how it reminded him of what Victor assumed was some random cryptid, and the two launched into a whole new conversation about the reality of Bigfoot being out there, the Loch Ness monster still being out there, Mothman, other random fantasy animals Victor had never heard of. They talked animatedly about their cryptozoology theories while Victor made the batter and pancakes. 

He sat, silent, watching the two talk eagerly back and forth over breakfast, listening intently to each other as they ate. Victor wasn’t sure how he ever deserved Benji Campbell, but he knew with his whole heart that he was good. Benji Campbell was so very good. Right to his core, Benji was good. And Victor loved that goodness so much that it stopped his throat, watered his eyes, made his lip tremble. This was what he’d always wanted. This was the Happily Ever After that Victor could see for himself and Benji and his family, sitting over breakfast talking about things Victor never had any clue about, love in each of their hearts.

Both of them paused to chew, and Victor took that as his cue to move them all forward. “So, Adrian, since we have the whole day together, is there anything you want to do?”

Adrian shrugged and speared a slice of strawberry with his fork. “Can we play Chutes and Ladders?”

Benji glanced at Victor, confused. ‘Chutes and Ladders,’ he mouthed incredulously. Victor laughed to himself. 

“What if we played something we all knew?” He suggested. “What about Apples to Apples?”

Adrian nodded excitedly and squealed with delight. “I  _ love _ Apples to Apples!” He jumped up and ran to grab the game. 

Benji bit his lip and finished the last piece of pancake on his plate. “He’s such a good kid,” He said softly. 

Victor nodded his agreement. “You two are getting along quite well.”

Benji ducked his head, rubbing at the back of his neck and letting his hair fall in front of his face. “It’s rare someone wants to talk about cryptids with me.”

Victor gave him a small smile. “You guys are really good together. I never thought you would have gotten along so well with my brother. I’m really glad.”

Benji chanced a glance up at Victor. He must have seen the honesty in his face, because he asked, “Realy?”

Victor nodded. “Yeah.”

Adrian came running back in, throwing the game down. “Okay, let’s play!”

Victor looked between them both with a smile. “What if the two of you play, and I can do the dishes and be the judge until I’m done?”

Adrian’s face fell, and Benji jumped in, “What if we all helped with the dishes so you can be done faster?”

_ Oh, that would be a disaster, _ Victor thought to himself. Already he and Benji alone were nearly impossible to get work done without supervision, and with Adrian thrown in the mix? They’d be there for a week just trying to clean a sink full of dishes.

But with one look at the two of their hopeful faces, Victor couldn’t help but agree. “You two are gonna be the death of me,” he muttered to Benji as they walked past each other. Benji just gave him a bright, innocent smile and pecked him on the lips.

Surprisingly, they finished dishes rather quickly. Although, Victor would admit, this was entirely because he’d brought up a topic they both had interest in, and they both stood by the counter jabbering on while Victor made quick work of the mess. 

“All done!” Victor shouted and pecked Benji on the cheek. “Good work, guys.”

Benji gave him a sheepish grimace full of guilt, and Victor just kissed him again and led them to the living room. They played the card game for a while until Adrian grew bored of this, then watched  _ Pocahontas _ (at Adrian’s own request) until he seemed to stop paying attention to the movie. 

Victor nudged him gently. “Hermano, what’s wrong?”

Adrian looked up at Victor with sad eyes. “Nothing,” he said, though the pain in his voice gave him away. 

“Adrian,” Victor admonished lightly, “come on, tell me what’s wrong.”

Adrian sighed. “I just… Why did Papi hit you?”

Victor blinked at him. Benji stood and announced he was going to the bathroom before making himself disappear. Adrian seemed regretful that he’d asked.

Victor sighed to himself and dragged a hand through his hair. He never figured that Adrian wouldn’t have known. He thought he’d gotten the fucked-up message his father had been sending their family clear as day. 

He paused the movie and turned to him. “Adrian,” he started, lost. “Papi… hit me because… I… love Benji. Instead of Mia.”

Adrian’s brows furrowed. “Why? You and Benji are so happy.”

Victor nodded. “Yeah, we are.” He shifted so he was facing him directly. “Adrian, some people think that it’s wrong for boys to love other boys.”

“Is that what ‘gay’ is?” Adrian asked. How did Victor never realize his brother never had any answers? How was he so oblivious that he never realized his brother was left in the dark?

“Yeah, Adrian,” he whispered, “that’s what ‘gay’ is.” He took a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and moved on. “And some people, like Papi and Abuelo, think that people shouldn’t be gay. And when I told him, he was really mad and scared. And when people are mad and scared, they do things that they normally wouldn’t do.”

Adrian stared at Victor’s chest, brows furrowed with emotion, eyes misting over. “What if I like boys one day? Will Papi do that to me?”

“ _ No. _ ” Victor stressed. “No, Adrian, I will never,  _ ever _ let him hurt you, okay? He will never hurt you. He will never even have the chance to hurt you. I promise.”

Adrian sniffed. “I don’t want to like boys if someone’s going to do that to me.”

Victor swallowed heavily, his own eyes blurring with tears. His poor baby brother… “Adrian, if that’s who you are, then you shouldn’t hide that. And no one will do that to you. I’ll make sure of it, okay? I promise you, no matter what you are, who you love, what you do, you’ll be safe. Okay?”

Adrian nodded and leaned against Victor, who immediately wrapped his arms around his little brother. “It will be okay, hermano,” Victor whispered, daring to kiss the top of his head. 

Adrian nodded again and leaned back. Victor let his arms fall away. “Will Papi ever come back?”

Victor shook his head. “No, he’s gone for good.”

Adrian sighed, nodded, and looked around. “Where did Benji go?”

“Bathroom,” Victor told him, wiping his tears away. “He’ll be back any second.”

Adrian, once again, nodded, and sank back into the couch cushions. “I like Benji.”

At that, Victor smiled. “Me too.”

It was only another couple of seconds before Benji came back, reclaiming his spot at Victor’s side. “Hey, what’d I miss?”

“Nothing special,” Victor lied, and pressed play on the movie.

After they were sure Adrian was resumed in the plot, Benji leaned over and muttered, “How’d it go?”

Victor took a shaky breath. “It was hard, but we got through it.”

Benji leaned his forehead against Victor’s temple, then kissed his jaw. “Good. I figured it was better if you dealt with that alone, chose what you wanted your brother to hear.”

Victor nodded, relieved. “I think it was better.”

Benji smiled and kissed his cheek. “Good.” He leaned back, then took Victor’s head and kissed his forehead. Victor leaned his head on Benji’s shoulder, and Adrian curled up in Victor’s side.

This was Victor’s family. 

This was Victor’s future.

All he had to do was stay alive to see it.

***

When Isabel got home that night, Adrian was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Benji made himself scarce by changing into his pajamas in Victor’s room, and Victor did his best to explain to his mother the conversation he’d had with his little brother that day. Isabel looked stricken by the time he finished talking.

“I never knew we’d left him in the dark,” she said. “I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

“Yeah,” Victor said softly. “Me too.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry. That must have been a hard conversation for you.”

He nodded. “It was. But it was worth having, I think.”

“So, he really thinks he might be gay one day?”

Victor shrugged. “I really don’t know. I’m not sure if he’s already feeling those types of attractions--”

“I think he’s a little young for that,” Isabel said with a nervous chuckle.

Victor just shrugged again. “I was around his age. Not that much older.” 

She stared at him. “Are you sure? That can’t be right…”

“It’s right,” Victor told her. “Why would it make sense for him to have a crush on a girl but not a boy? You wouldn’t bat an eye if he came home saying he had a crush on a girl. Would you care if he said that about a boy?”

Isabel gave him a pointed look. “ _ No _ , Victor, of course not, but he’s a little young to know if he’s… like that, isn’t he?”

Victor rolled his eyes. “Why is he not too young to know he’s straight but he is too young to know he’s gay?”

Isabel took a deep, slow breath; her patience was running thin. “Victor I think you’re misunderstanding me--”

“Mom,” Victor cut in. “What are you trying to say?”

“Victor,” she said carefully, “I’m trying to say that Adrian is too young to know whether he likes guys or girls. He’s too young to know whether he likes anybody. I’d prefer he didn’t come home saying he has a crush on anybody. He’s little.”

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t. And if he does now, would you care if he thinks it might be a boy?”

They stared at each other, resignation and fear in both of their faces. Victor wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer, but he couldn’t leave this table without hearing it. 

Finally, Isabel sighed. “No, Victor, of course not.” Victor released the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding and slouched back in his chair. “Honey, I know what this is about.”

Victor chanced a glance at Isabel, and saw she was only looking at him with concern. “What do you mean,” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

She covered his hand with one of her own. “You’re worried about whether I truly accepted, and you’re worried about if Adrian is gay one day. But, mijo,” she sat forward, squeezing his hand tight, “I love you. You are everything to me. Each one of you are my world. Benji, too. At first I thought I’d have a harder time accepting it, but I realized that you’re still my son. And you always have been. And I love you, Victor.”

Victor looked into his mother’s eyes, looked at the earnesty in her face, and something eased deep inside him, like a muscle that’d been tense for months, finally coming loose. Blue bubbled in his chest, and he gave his mother a careful smile. “Okay, Mom,” he said, “I love you, too. I hear you.”

Isabel sighed. “I know. But it’s hard to trust people sometimes, especially after this. But you’re my son. Nothing will change that, mi amor.” She let go of his hand and sighed, a slow smile spreading over her face. “Speaking of  _ amor _ , I believe Benji is waiting very patiently for you in your bedroom.”

Victor bit his lip, trying to curb his own excited grin. “Yeah…” He chanced a glance at his mother, and couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t mind, do you? I mean… I’m sure you know…”

Isabel held up a hand to stop him. “Victor, I would rather live in denial if I can.” They both chuckled a bit. She gave him a look and said, “You are being careful, right? Emily told me how to help you if you ever need, and she gave me some co--”

“Okay, yes, Mom, we are being very careful,” Victor said as he stood, very much regretting starting this conversation. “Now, you are right, Benji is waiting for me, goodnight.”

“Be  _ safe _ , Victor!” She called after him. 

He cringed to himself as he retreated to his bedroom, sighing in relief as he finally got the door closed behind him. 

“Whoa,” Benji said, “what’s that face for?”

Victor opened one eye and looked at Benji, wearing gray sweats and sitting casually barefoot on Victor’s bed. Damn, Victor loved him in a pair of sweatpants. “Uh, my mom trying to give me the sex talk.”

Strangely enough, Benji laughed. “I love your mom,” He said through another guffaw. 

Victor rolled his eyes. “You know, you could be  _ less _ of an asshole sometimes.”

Benji shook his head. “Where would be the fun in that?”

Victor sighed and made his way to Benji, straddling his lap. Benji sobered up quickly, looking up at Victor with a soft smile in his eyes. “This okay?” He asked softly. Benji nodded, gingerly resting his hands on Victor’s hips. 

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what we were planning for tonight,” Benji said, his tongue darting out to track the movement.

“I never am,” Victor said back, then leaned down and kissed him.

This was where Victor was supposed to be his whole life, with Benji hard between his legs and moving under his hands and trapped against his mouth. This was what Victor was supposed to do for his entire life, make Benji feel good. He’d die content if the only thing he had to show for his miserable life was making Benji happy. He glowed gold as he kissed him with glee.

“You know,” Benji said as he pulled away, “this would be a lot easier if you weren’t wearing pants.”

“Oh, would it now?” Victor said, teasing.

“Mhm,” Benji answered, reaching down and popping the button on Victor’s jeans. 

Victor stood, and Benji moved backward against the headboard, shucking off his shirt and pants while Victor did the same, leaving them both down to their underwear. Benji beckoned him back, and this was the part Victor loved. He loved sitting down in Benji’s lap, just two thin pairs of underwear between them, feeling his hard cock rub just barely against Benji’s. He adored the face Benji made at that initial contact, the soft huff he let out when Victor shifted his weight so they could collide once again, meeting at the crux, gentle and close and  _ perfect. _ This was perfect.

Slowly, Victor started to move, swaying back and forth, trying to find the best angle to keep going. Benji’s hands tightened on his hips, guiding him down, widening his thighs, so they both let out quiet twin groans. They had to be quiet. 

Benji led him in slow circular movements, allowing him to gyrate his hips as he pleased, moaning his name into his shoulder as Victor pressed in a particular way that he knew drove Benji insane. Victor did it again, and Benji’s fingers flexed against his skin. He moved his mouth up, kissing along his collarbone, kissing and licking and nipping at the side of his neck, before reaching the sensitive skin behind his ear, sucking slowly there. Victor gasped, bowing his head to give Benji better access, which he used to suck another hickey just beside the first one, biting softly this time. Victor’s fingernails dug into Benji’s shoulders to keep himself from crying out.

“Victor,” Benji breathed. He slipped his hands beneath Victor’s waistband, squeezing his ass. “Off, off now.”

Victor stood, and they both shucked their underwear. Benji admired him for a second, then tugged him forward, back into his lap, both groaning at the feeling. Victor leaned down and kissed him. Benji lifted his hips in time with Victor’s, the both of them aching to get closer, closer, closer. They could never be close enough. 

Benji reached down and took both of them into his hand. Victor groaned into Benji’s mouth, then kissed along his jaw, down his neck. He experimented, sucking gently at the skin along his pulse. Benji gasped, and made a soft sound Victor had never heard him make before, so he sucked harder biting gently. Benji’s hips twitched up, and he cursed softly. Victor kept traveling down, sucking another bruise into his shoulder. Benji’s pace on their dicks quickened, and Victor knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

“Victor,” Benji whispered, “Vic, baby…”

Victor moaned in return, grinding his hips to the speed of Benji’s hand on their cocks, both of them leaking precome the closer they got to their climaxes. 

“ _ Sweetheart _ ,” Benji breathed. “I’m gonna come.”

Victor could feel the heat coiling inside himself, and he felt another sharp zing at Benji’s admission. “Me too.”

Benji nodded, pressing his sweat-slicked face to Victor’s, and he hummed softly. “Fuck, yeah, I’m close.”

Victor pulled back to watch Benji as he was overcome by his orgasm, jacking the both of them off through it, his eyes squeezed shut and mouth opened on a syllable that died on his lips, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. That combined with a flick of Benji’s wrist, and Victor was coming, too, throwing his head back and allowing himself to be taken by the sweet bliss of Benji, his hands and his arms and his body and his voice. Victor dug his fingernails deep into Benji’s skin, rocking into him as he came, doing his best to keep quiet. 

He came back to himself, breathless, opening his eyes to find Benji looking at him with sheer awe and adoration. Victor wondered, somewhere, in his hazy mind, if that was what he looked like when he watched Benji come, too.

“Victor, you’re…” Benji swallowed, and another zing shot through his belly at the sound of his voice absolutely wrecked. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Victor rested his forehead against Benji’s. “You are, too.”

Benji huffed out a laugh, closing his eyes. “I’ll get the wipes.”

Victor nodded. He untangled himself from Benji, pushing past the discomfort in his thighs and the irritation from his come cooling on his stomach, and he threw himself back onto the covers, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be overtaken by the bliss he felt, his post-orgasm haze as Benji cleaned himself off, then wiped at Victor’s abdomen. Victor would have tried to stop him, would have done it himself, but his hands were too heavy. He could barely move.

Benji chuckled softly and moved carefully so he could get the blankets out from under him without disturbing Victor’s peace. He appreciated it greatly.

Benji gathered Victor against his chest, sighing into his hair, pressing gentle kisses anywhere he could reach. “I love you,” he whispered with another kiss to Victor’s cheek.

“I love you, too,” Victor slurred. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You Guys I Miss You Please Comment It Makes Me Happy -- a novel by me because YOU WONT EVER COMMENT IT UPSETS ME I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS THEY MAKE MY DAY PLEASE OMG


	30. Derek and his Fucking Rubix Cube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe :))

There were a million little golden nuggets in Victor’s heart, and one of them was the way Benji worked at Brasstown.

He was so focused and in his element, so calm, so upbeat and smiley but also a special version of himself which was just as beautiful as it was rare. Benji didn’t have a customer service persona like everyone else in the world; he was just himself, but there was something so different about this person. Victor could never put a finger on it.

Victor was too busy ogling Benji talking with his customer to notice the patron who walked in. He wished, in hindsight, that he would have glanced over and noticed. But at this point, Victor did not have hindsight. All he had was Benjisight. So, maybe he did have a particular kind of hindsight… 

Benji finished up with the person he was talking to, then glanced at the person who’d walked in and sat down at a table. His face drained, and he turned to Victor. Victor snapped out of his gay stupor and focused on Benji, taking note of his panic and anger as he looked at him. 

“Did you notice him?” Benji gestured to the patron, and Victor glanced over. He could feel all his blood rush to his face once he looked at Derek the Asshole. 

Victor shook his head, stricken. “No.”

Benji worried his lip in thought. “He has ten minutes to get something or leave, or else he’s loitering and we throw him out.”

Victor nodded, glancing over at Derek again. He pulled out a Rubix cube from his backpack, and Victor watched, brows furrowed, as he fiddled with it, glancing between the multi-colored cube and the two boys behind the counter. 

Benji growled softly, and Victor did his best to ignore how much the sound turned him on. “Benji, it’ll be fine. There’s probably a reason he’s here.”

“Yeah,” Benji agreed, turning his glare to Victor, “to drive me fucking insane.”

Victor shook his head. “No, you’re… I think you’re missing my point.”

Benji rolled his eyes. “He has nine more minutes.” He groaned. “Derrek and his  _ fucking  _ Rubix cube!”

Victor sighed and watched Benji angrily make a Frappuccino, forcefully put a croissant sandwich in the toaster oven, aggressively shake the whipped cream before quickly adding it to the top of the drink. All the while, both could feel Derek’s eyes on them, shifting between his Rubix cube and the two behind the counter. Victor was starting to go mad with it. 

Benji called out a name for the order, then went back beside Victor, growling softly as he looked over at Derek. Victor once again did his best to ignore the sound and the impact it had on him, instead opting to run a calming hand down Benji’s back. 

“He has three more minutes,” Benji said. “Then we make him leave.”

Victor nodded. “Until then, why don’t you just calm down and forget he’s here. He’s just trying to get to you.”

“Well, he is.”

“Don’t let him,” Victor said calmly. “He’s an asshole who won’t leave you alone, yes, but you know the best way to get back at him?”

Benji rolled his eyes and turned to Victor, waiting for an answer. 

“You pretend he’s not here.”

Benji rolled his shoulders, nodding. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Victor said with a smile. Benji gave him a look, but he softened as he gazed at him. 

“I love you, Victor,” he said softly, brushing hair from Victor’s forehead. 

Victor leaned forward and kissed him quick. “I love you, too.” He nudged Benji and gestured to the clock. “Ten minute mark.”

Benji nodded, and he and Victor both made their way to Derek. 

“You’re loitering,” Benji said in lieu of a greeting. “We’re going to have to ask you to get something or leave.”

Derek looked up. “I’m not hurting anybody.”

Victor did his best not to roll his eyes. “Just because you’re not hurting anybody doesn’t mean you can loiter.”

Derek tilted his head at him. “You have some nerve talking to me like that.”

Benji bristled beside him. “You have no right to talk to my boyfriend like that. And you have no right to come into my workplace and stare at me like you are.”

They were starting to attract the attention of some nearby patrons, and Victor ran a gentle hand down Benji’s spine, like he always did when he got riled up. Benji’s biggest weakness was a soft caress down his back. “Benji, relax.”

“No,” Benji said, turning so Victor couldn’t reach him anymore. Well, there went that. “He’s not getting anything, so he needs to leave. He’s overextended his stay.”

Derek scoffed. “This isn’t some hotel, this is a lame ass cafe. I can’t ‘overextend my stay,’” he said, making air quotes around the words, Rubix cube still in one hand. 

Benji glared at him. “If this is some ‘lame ass cafe,’” he started, making air quotes as well, “then why don’t you go somewhere else?”

Derek shook his head and went back to his cube. “Because I can be where I want.”

“No,” Benji said, voice shaking, “you can’t. You are loitering.”

Derke shrugged. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be ‘loitering,’” more air quotes, “if I were still your boyfriend. I used to come around all the time and sit here while you worked, and you never complained then, did you?”

Victor chanced a glance around the cafe; everyone was watching. “Benji, maybe we should just leave it.”

Benji held up a hand to stop him and said to Derek, “You’re not my boyfriend anymore, Victor is.”

“Right,” Derek said with a laugh, “the broken one.”

Benji’s spine was rigid, like it’d been replaced with a steel pole. “What did you just say?”

Derek gestured at Victor with another laugh. “You’re dating  _ that _ . Come on, Ben, he’s, like, half a person.”

“Don’t call me that, and no he is not.” Benji shot back. “You have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Derek said. He put his Rubix cube down. “A little birdie told me this… thing,” he eyed Victor, and Victor could feel the judgement in his glare, “has so many brain problems he can’t even make it through one day of… well, anything.”

Victor glanced at the floor. He’d gotten that right. 

“I mean,” he continued, “how can you choose someone that’s  _ broken _ over me?”

This must have been another nightmare. His dad would come in any second, and Victor would wake up, and Benji would be there on the phone ready to calm Victor down in an instant. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. 

“You really think that he’s making you happy? The same way that I did? Benji, please.”

Benji rolled his eyes, completely oblivious to Victor’s emotional turmoil right behind him.  _ This wasn’t real, this wasn’t real, this wasn’t real. _ “Victor is not broken. And he loves me, and he makes me much happier than you ever did.”

_ That’s not true! _ Victor’s brain screamed.  _ You deserve someone better than me! Someone that’s not a mess. _

_ A whole person instead of just half. _

“Yeah, right,” Derek scoffed, “is that still true when he can’t remember where he is, or…?”

“Get the fuck out!” Benji roared.

Victor grabbed his arm and yanked him back just as he tried to charge forward. “Benji,” he whispered. Benji had his eyes squeezed shut, anger holding every muscle in his body taught. Victor could feel the electric fury running his veins cold. “Go take a break. I’ll handle this.”

“Absolutely not,” he hissed. “I am not making you have a conversation with him. God, how did I ever think I loved him?”

Victor brought up a hand and stroked Benji’s jaw. “He’s just riling you up. He can’t get to me.”

“Yes he can.” Benji opened his eyes and looked into Victor’s. There was so much pain in his gaze, Victor almost had to look away. “I know you. He’s hurting you.”

Victor faked a smile and shook his head. “I’m okay. Go take a breather, I’ll get him out. Grab Sarah, okay?”

Benji nodded. “He’ll go running once he sees her.”

Victor nodded, too, and Benji gave him another look, glared at Derek, then retreated behind the counter. 

Derek looked at Victor with interest. “You don’t actually think he loves you, do you? He’ll be over you soon. No one can love someone like you.”

Victor sighed. “When that happens, he won’t be going back to you. He doesn’t love you anymore. He doesn’t even like you anymore.”

Derek just shrugged and fiddled with his fucking cube.

Victor bit his lip, tried to ignore him until Sarah came back, but he couldn’t help himself and he blurted, “What do you think you’re going to gain here, Derek? He doesn’t want you, not even a little bit.”

Derek just shrugged again. “If I can remind him that you’re not worth it, maybe he’ll move on. I don’t want him stuck with a mistake like you.”

Victor bit back a sharp comeback he’d regret, and said, “Just because I have PTSD does not mean I am a mistake.” He wasn’t sure he believed that, but if it would get Derek to shut up, he’d probably say just about anything.

Derek, surprisingly, chuckled aloud. “Really? You don’t even have a working  _ brain _ . You really think you can love him the way he deserves?”

“Excuse me,” a lady a few tables away piped up. She had bright white curly hair and wrinkles all over her dark skin. “I mean this as kindly as I can possibly say, young man,” she said to Derek, “but please, honey, fuck off.”

Victor pursed his lips to stifle a laugh. Derek looked offended. He shook his head and stood, grabbing his bag and Rubix cube off the table. “Whatever. When he breaks up with you, though, because you can’t remember your own damn name, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Victor took a deep breath through his nose and watched him leave, breathing out a sigh of relief when the door finally closed behind him. 

“Don’t listen to a work he says, honey,” the old woman said once he was gone. “My husband and I have been together for forty-two years even with his PTSD, and my sister been with her husband for thirty-five years even with  _ his _ PTSD. And my brother and his husband? Been together for sixty-one years even though both of ‘em got PTSD. It has nothing to do with your mind, baby, only the love in your hearts, and you can make anything work if you want to. Your boy loves you, anyone can see that. Everyone here could.”

Victor glanced down at his feet, smiling sheepishly. “Thank you, ma’am.” He said softly, looking back at her. “And thank you so much for sticking up for me.”

She nodded. “I’ve spent my whole life as a schoolteacher, sticking up against bullies who think they know better just because they different. Just know, sweetie, different makes you worth the world.”

Victor smiled brightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice stuck in his throat. “I, uh, I think I needed to hear that.”

She gave him a beatific smile. “Of course, baby. Now, I think your boy is still back there mighty upset.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, so much.”

She gave him another smile, and Sarah came out from the back. “Where’s the problem?”

Victor gave her a look. “Gone, Sarah. Stay up here, I’ll go talk to Benji.”

She looked as though she wanted to argue, but manned the register in silence. Victor sent the woman one more word of thanks, then ventured back to go find Benji.

He was stewing, pacing in the tiny break room, furiously stalking back and forth, breathing heavily, working himself up to quite the freak out. 

“Benji,” Victor said softly.

Benji’s head snapped up, and his whole body relaxed. He all but ran forward, dragging Victor down into a hug. “I’m so sorry I left you out there, I shouldn’t have, I know, I just--”

“It’s okay,” Victor said softly. “I asked you to, remember? We handled it.”

Benji shook his head, burying his face in Victor’s neck. “I should never have let him stay the whole ten minutes.”

“You couldn’t have done anything,” Victor reminded him. “You did what you had to. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

Benji looked at him. “You know you’re not broken, right? You know I love you more than anything, right?”

Victor nodded, something easing inside him. He knew, realistically, that Benji felt this way, but it was nice to hear him say it. “I know, Benji. Thank you for always helping me see that.”

Benji kissed him hard, lips searing hot against Victor’s. Victor eased into the kiss, let the tension and fears from the altercation seep from his bones, replaced by millions of little gold nuggets. One of the gold nuggets was the way Benji kissed. Well, there were about a hundred of those, one for each kind. Another nugget was the way Benji reassured Victor of whatever he needed to be assured of. Another was the way Benji stood up for him, no matter what the cause, to Derek, to his dad, to the police, to anyone. And there was one little nugget, but this one was silver. And this one special piece of metal was for how Benji loved him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give me love I am begging you every time


	31. Shameful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA that I really don't know how legal trials work :/
> 
> Also yes I did use the name of the judge from Brooklyn 99 when Jake and Rosa were on trial and man I’d do it again

The last time Victor was in a suit, nothing good happened. It felt like a strange foreshadowing of doom that he was forced to wear another one for the next few weeks.

School had let out a few days ago, and Victor and Benji had been with Emily, Isabel, and the lawyer ever since that last day at 3 o’clock, getting ready for this day and all the days that would come after it. 

This was the first day of  _ Salazar v. Salazar, _ the case of father against family.

Victor sat on a bench outside the courtroom, waiting anxiously for the doors to open, flanked on either side by Emily and Isabel. Anna was in front of them, briefing them once again on how the first day would go. They’d been through this spiel ten times already, and Victor figured she could go over it a thousand times more for him, yet he’d never be prepared to face his father again.

His therapist had been sitting with him bi-weekly, focusing on quite a few aspects of Victor’s PTSD, yet they’d always travel back to getting Victor ready for seeing his father again in court. Despite the constant prep from his therapist, Isabel, Emily, Anna, Simon, and Benji, Victor would never be ready for this. He could barely see someone with a slight resemblance to Armando, let alone the real person. He couldn’t even stomach a damn photograph of the man. 

Anna was going through the possible pleads Armando might give when Benji finally came in, dressed in a nice suit, his game face on, flanked by both of his parents at either arm. Victor excused himself and went to greet his boyfriend, relieved just to see his face.

However, in order for this greeting to happen, Victor would have to meet and talk to Benji’s parents. Great. Awesome. That was just… fantastic.

Benji smiled with relief once he saw Victor, and he pulled him into a tight hug by the arm. 

“You looked nervous,” he whispered. “And you’re shaking.”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut, ignored the curious looks of Benji’s parents. “I am terrified.”

Benji just squeezed him tighter. “It’ll be okay, baby. I’ll suckerpunch him if he comes within six feet of you.”

Victor gave a wet laugh, then pulled away, blinking back tears. He wasn’t sure if they were from his anxiety or relief, but either way it was getting harder to keep them back.

“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell,” he turned to them both, holding out a hand. “Hi, I’m Victor.”

Mrs. Campbell took Victor’s hand with a bright smile. It calmed the tight ball of nerves in Victor’s chest, even if only just a little bit. “Victor, we have heard so much about you. It is so nice to meet you, honey. I wish it could’ve been under better circumstances.”

“Me too,” Victor said, then turned to Benji’s dad. “Hi, Mr. Campbell.”

Mr. Campbell’s eyes dragged over Victor’s face, disapproving. “So, you’re the boy that got my son hurt?”

Victor’s blood ran cold. “Mr. Campbell--”

“Victor had nothing to do with that,” Benji butt in. “That was all me, not him.”

Mr. Campbell turned his judgemental gaze on his own son. “You would think after that fiasco before you’d learn to control yourself. But you can’t, and that’s why we’re here.” And with that, he walked away.

Mrs. Campbell shook her head, eyes closed. “He’s just dramatic,” she told the two of them.

Benji folded his arms and scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Dramatic.  _ That’s _ why he hates Victor for getting beaten by his own dad, as if he chose that.”

Mrs. Campbell looked between the both of them, sympathetic. “Benji, he just worries about you. He loves you, and he wants you alive.”

Victor looked down at the floor. Did Benji’s dad think Victor was going to get his son killed?

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Benji told her. “Thanks.”

She nodded to him. “I love you, Benji. I’ll see you after.” She turned to Victor, “It was wonderful to meet you, Victor. You’re welcome in our home any time.” And with that, she left.

Victor’s jaw worked back and forth as he tried not to cry. “Your parents, uh--”

“I am so, so sorry, Victor, he’s an asshole, he doesn’t give a shit about people’s feelings--”

“It’s okay,” Victor told him. He cupped Benji’s face with both hands, stroking his cheeks. Already, he felt calmer as he held him. “It’s okay, Benji.”

“It’s not,” Benji said with a sigh, “but okay.”

Victor took his hand and led him down the court hall. “You look good in a blazer.” He muttered softly.

Benji eyed him carefully. “You do, too.”

Victor stopped a few feet from his mothers, leaning against the wall. Benji stood in front of him, holding his hands between their bodies. 

“You nervous?” Benji asked. 

Victor nodded and did his best to avoid Benji’s gaze. “I haven’t seen him since you punched him in my apartment.”

Benji smiled fondly. “Yeah, that was fun.”

Despite himself, Victor laughed.

Benji tilted his head and tugged on Victor’s hands. “You know he’s gonna be looking at you, right?”

Victor nodded again. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Okay,” Benji said. They were silent for a moment. Mia, Lake, Felix, and Andrew arrived together, all dressed for the occasion. Pilar came back from where she’d been taking Adrian on a walk and telling him about how he needed to be quiet even though they would see their dad. Anna was waiting quietly with Isabel and Emily. Simon and everyone from New York would be coming down soon, all ready for the trial. Benji’s parents were standing together, talking in hushed voices, eyeing Victor and Benji together. Victor watched everyone milling around in the hallway, waiting for the doors to open. He couldn’t be more ready for this if he tried. 

Victor was about to suggest they go on a walk when the doors to the courtroom opened. He felt, briefly, like he might vomit. Benji squeezed his hands and pulled him away from the wall. Victor’s feet felt like bricks as they forced themselves to move. Lake, Andrew, and Felix surrounded him while Mia linked arms with Benji. Anna led them, including their mothers, inside the courtroom. Lake and Mia both gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. Felix enveloped Victor in a tight hug, not unlike the one he’d given him when Victor had come out (Had that been months ago?). Andrew gripped his shoulder and looked him in the eye. Behind him, Victor saw the basketball team trickling in. 

“We’re all on your side, Salazar,” Andrew told him. “We’re all here for you.”

Victor’s breath left him, and he gave Andrew a nod, which he returned. He squeezed his shoulder three times, then pulled his hand away. He patted Benji on the shoulder, then went and joined the team in the forming crowd. 

Anna and Isabel sat on either side of the boys. Victor gripped Benji’s hand under the table. The door opened on the other side of the room, and Armando came in flanked by two policemen. He was wearing an orange jumpsuit. His hands were cuffed in front of him. He looked helpless, defenseless. 

Victor couldn’t breathe. Benji tapped a specific rhythm onto his hand, punctuated by three quick squeezes before repeating. It took Victor a moment to realize Benji was beating out the rhythm of Baby Shark.

Armando looked over at him, his brows furrowed, expression unreadable. Victor was finding it impossible to swallow.

“All rise for Judge Marinovich.”

Benji pulled Victor to his feet, taking the entirety of his weight as Victor’s knees buckled, refusing to lock. 

“You may be seated,” the judge said as he sat. Benji lowered Victor back to his seat.

“You okay?” Benji whispered. Victor shook his head. Isabel poured a cup of water and handed it to Victor, who took it with gratitude. Benji stroked the back of Victor’s hand as the judge called the court into session and banged his gavel, making Victor jump. The judge eyed him, but said nothing of it.

“We will now hear opening statements from each side.”

Anna stood and made her case first, something Victor had heard a thousand times over. Once she finished after a good near ten minutes of her talking, laying out her points, the judge turned to Armando and his lawyer.

“And how do you plead?”

The lawyer spoke up, “Not guilty.”

A stone dropped in the pit of Victor’s stomach, and Armando looked over at him, smug. Victor’s breath ratcheted up a notch.

“Victor,” Benji whispered as Anna rested a gentle hand on Victor’s arm, “relax. He can’t get to you.”

He was wrong. Armando was so close, just barely a few feet away. Armando could jump up at any minute and kill Victor, strangle him with his handcuffs. He should’ve let him kill him on the sidewalk. He should have let himself die that day.

The lawyer stood and made his own case, that Armando was acting in self defense as both boys tried to make sexual advances and threatened his own life. Victor couldn’t find his breath. He was being painted as a monster by the man who tried to kill him. 

It was impossible now for Victor to swallow, and he was finding it impossible to breathe. Armando was staring at him so clearly, glaring, and Victor just saw the day he was going to die.

His mouth kept filling with saliva. Victor had read recently in the little facts in his biology textbook that a person’s mouth filled with saliva before they vomited to protect the teeth. He was going to throw up, maybe right here in this courtroom.

His eyes kept filling with tears and his stomach was turning uncomfortably. Where was he? When would Armando attack? Was he going to kill him? He closed his eyes tight, tried to breathe through the panic in his chest, but it was impossible. Armando would kill him.

Benji’s hand was like a vice in his, a shackle to the table, to Armando and his putrid presence.

“Benji,” Victor whispered, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Anna eyed him and moved so there was a clearer path between him and the door. Benji rubbed his back. “Try to drink more water.”

Victor shook his head, but that only made him more nauseous. “I’m gonna throw up.”

“Okay,” Benji said, and he moved to stand. 

“Your Honor, my client and I would like to call a recess,” Anna said as she stood. 

There was a smack of the gavel as Victor and Benji ran off, Felix and Andrew behind him. 

“Bathroom?” Benji asked them. They both shrugged. Victor covered his mouth tight with both hands, trying not to cough. 

Anna called, “To the right, down the hall, on the left!”

Benji rushed him down, Andrew and Felix quick on their heels, and Victor sank to his knees in front of the toilet just as everything was too much to bear. He gagged and vomited. He was crying, gasping for breath, choking on it. It was impossible to breathe. He kept throwing up, and there was movement, and Armando was here, he would kill him, he--

“Vic, breathe,” Benji told him, sitting beside him and rubbing his back. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

Victor shook his head and sobbed, then gagged, coughing up more sick. “He’s gonna kill me,” he choked out.

“He’s not gonna kill you,” Benji told him. “You’re safe. No one will let you get hurt, I swear. Your whole team is right here for you. Victor, you’ll be okay. No one, and I mean  _ no one _ is going to let him near you. I swear it.”

Victor collapsed, sweaty and shaking and sobbing, into Benji’s arms. Felix gave him some toilet paper to clean up with and went to grab some gum from Lake, who was right outside the door. Andrew came in with a fresh bottle of water. Victor drank half, while using the other half to rinse his mouth. “I don’t wanna die,” he kept crying, unable to stop. Andrew sat beside him, a strong force against any danger that came their way. Benji kissed his forehead a thousand times, singing any song that came to mind, Baby Shark and Call Me Maybe and the Only Exception. After a while, Victor stopped paying attention to what he sang and just focused on the voice of his lover, moving up and down perfectly with each song, mouth forming each word, each syllable with ease as he stroked Victor’s hair. Felix gave him two sticks of gum, which Victor took, grateful to get the disgusting taste of vomit out of his mouth. 

“Vic, breathe, baby,” Benji said, running a gentle hand down his spine, just like Victor always did for him when he got riled up. “You’re gonna be okay. No one is going to let him get close to you, I swear.”

“He’s already close!”

“Okay.” Benji kept his voice calm, gentle, soft. Felix and Andrew leaned against the sinks, a careful distance from the two on the floor. “We can sit you farthest away we can get, okay?”

“Don’t leave me,” Victor gasped, pushing further against Benji’s chest.

“I’m not gonna leave you, baby. I wouldn’t even think about it.”

Victor sobbed into Benji’s shoulder. “I wanna go home.”

“We’re gonna go home soon, okay? But right now we have to go back in there.”

Victor shook his head. “He’s gonna get me.”

“He won’t,” Benji stressed. “We’re all gonna be right here for you, V, okay? Andrew is gonna be right behind us, ready to help you whenever you need. And there is a ton of security all over the place and they’re gonna stop him if he tries anything. I swear. You aren’t in any danger.”

Trembling, Victor nodded and pulled away. He wiped his face on his jacket sleeve, and the three boys helped him to his feet. They all helped him out of the bathroom, where Lake, Mia, Anna, Pilar, Adrian, Emily, and Isabel were all waiting. They each hugged him and squeezed him tight, giving him a bit of their strength. Adrian clung to him, holding tight to his waist and not saying a single word. Victor picked him up and carried him back as they all made their way en masse to the courtroom. 

The entire basketball team had moved up front with two seats saved for Andrew and Emily at the end. There was room for Adrian, Pilar, Mia, Lake, and Felix right behind them in the second row. 

His team was there to protect him. They were there for him. They’d keep him safe.

Armando and his lawyer were talking in hushed tones at the defense table. Victor did his best to avoid looking over, but he couldn’t help himself. Armando was glaring at him. Benji tugged him so he looked away.

Judge Marinovich banged his gavel, once again making Victor jump; this time, the judge ignored it. “Court is back in session.”

***

Victor, Felix, Mia, Andrew, Benji, and Pilar were all staying at Lake’s that night. They all trudged inside, aching and exhausted, Victor more than any of them. They were all silent as they changed into their pajamas in separate rooms. Victor and Mia changed in silence, their backs to each other. 

“Victor,” Mia said softly, “you know I love you, right?”

He turned to look at her to find her dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He was pretty sure the shirt was Andrew’s. The pants might have been, too. “I, uh, yeah.” He lied and cleared his throat. “I do.”

She nodded and sighed. “You’re really important, Victor.” She gave him a soft look. “I wish you could’ve had something better.”

He shrugged and threw on his shirt. “I mean, it’s okay. I guess I deserved this. I mean, I did cheat on you.”

Mia shook her head. “That doesn’t equal this.” She took his hands in hers and some of the tension drained from his shoulders. “You need to understand you’re better than this.”

Victor nodded, his throat getting tight. “I do.”

“Good.” She gave him a careful smile. “Come on. We are having a High School Musical binge.”

He nodded again and followed her downstairs to the living room where everyone was camped out. Benji and Andrew were in the middle of making a blanket fort.

“My mom said we can keep this up while the trial goes on since we’re all staying here,” Lake explained.

Victor stared at it. It was huge. And he supposed it made sense. They all wanted to support Victor and Benji, and during this time his therapist thought it was best that he stayed somewhere that he didn’t have any ties to Armando. They all agreed they’d stay at Lake’s until the trial was done. They wanted to be comfortable; huge pillow fort, it is.

Benji looked up, his smile brightening once he saw Victor. 

Victor felt his chin wobbling, and that was it. Benji came over and gathered Victor into his arms, holding him tight and whispering soft words of encouragement as he cried. 

Well, ‘cried’ was an understatement. Victor was full-on wailing, screaming into Benji’s shoulder, because there was nothing he could do anymore. 

Felix and Lake tacked themselves onto Victor’s back, and Andrew, Mia, and Pilar threw themselves on top. Victor was surrounded, protected, in a bubble of green and gold and purple, and they all let him scream to his heart’s content. Benji spoke low in his ear, cooing his support and praise. He kept telling him how good he was doing, how proud of him he was, and Victor couldn’t take it. Benji was too good. Victor would die in his arms, all of their arms, right here if he could, but he couldn’t. They wouldn’t let him. He would be forced to finish this trial, to suffer through the presence of his father, his lies. He would be required to question his sanity day in and day out. 

He just kept screaming he wanted to die, he hated this, and just wailing at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t stop.

Andrew and Felix and Pilar made quick work of the rest of the fort, making it stable so everyone could bring Victor underneath. Lake got every junk food known to man, and gave him some water and ice cream. His crying finally started to subside. He leaned against Benji, who had his back up against the couch, and ate his ice cream in silence. They pressed play on the movie, and Victor stared at the screen blankly, not quite absorbing the movie, but not quite ignoring it either. He ate two bowls of ice cream before he fell asleep during Gabriella’s departure in High School Musical 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment uwu


	32. Venus Flytrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it continues
> 
> **TW: PTSD attack, mentions of incest, mentions of rape, minor self harm**
> 
> Summary at bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idek ok idk how court works
> 
> Also it’s not as bad as the triggers make it sound I swear I promise I would never do that to y’all it’s fine just read it it’s fine

All Victor had to do was remember how it felt to be held by Simon, Bram, Justin, Ivy, and Kim. He glanced out at the crowd, searching for their faces. Each of them gave him reassuring smiles. Ivy put up her two hands in the form of a heart just under her chin. 

He took a deep breath. He could do this. 

“So, Mr. Salazar,” Anna began, “can you please tell us what happened the day of the 28th of April.”

Victor swallowed heavily and nodded. “I was taking a walk and I stopped by my old apartment building. He was there.”

“Who, Mr. Salazar?”

He was shaking so hard he could barely get the words out. “Ar-Armando Salazar. My, my, uh, my father.”

Anna nodded gravely. “And what did he do to you?”

Victor bit into his lip so hard he could taste blood. He glanced out at the crowd and caught Benji’s eye. Benji visibly took a deep breath and slowly let it out, gesturing for Victor to do the same. He followed suit and opened his mouth. “He called me some slurs and told me to leave, and when I said I lived there, he punched me. He told me if I ever came back that he’d kill me. And when I said I wouldn’t stay away, he beat me.”

Anna nodded, lips pursed. “So, Armando Salazar is your father, yes?”

Victor nodded jerkily. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And why weren’t you staying with him?”

Victor swiped his tongue over the wound in his lip. Copper. He was still bleeding. “He, um, kicked me out.”

“When?”

“The night of March fourteenth.”

“And is it true he hit you then, too?”

He nodded and connected his gaze with Pilar, who was crying silently in the second row between Mia and Lake. “Yes.”

“And why is that? Why did he assault you and kick you out?”

Victor’s mouth was so dry. His tongue felt like sandpaper. He dropped his gaze to his shaking hands and took a trembling breath, accidentally letting out the smallest sob. Armando was right there. What if he killed him for saying it again?

“I don’t, um…” He pressed a shaky fist to his forehead, shaking his head, trying desperately to blink back tears. “I don’t like saying it.”

“It’s okay,” Anna said, voice pained. “I know it’s hard. Take your time.”

He shook his head again and locked eyes with Simon and Bram. ‘It’s okay,’ Bram mouthed. 

_It’s okay._

_It’s okay._

_It’s okay._

It was not fucking okay. 

“Mr. Salazar,” Judge Marinovich said, “please answer the question.”

Victor dug the nails on one hand into the back of the other and forced out the words, “I’m gay. I like boys, and he didn’t like that.” His hand was bleeding, and he gasped for air, but it felt like nothing came in. “I— I need, um—“

“Victor,” Anna cut in. “Victor, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. It was not okay, it was fucking _torture_. “He tried to kill me.”

Anna nodded. “Victor, can you tell me some of the things he said to you? I know it was a long time ago, but can you remember?”

Victor nodded. He had the damn words seared into his brain. “He said, um—“ he cleared his throat. His mouth was like a desert. He wiped his face with his hands and ran them over the thighs of his slacks. “He said he knew I saw my brother and sister, and if I ever talked to anyone in his family again, he would murder me right there.”

There was a small wave of verbal shock throughout the crowd. Victor hated it. He wanted to die. He wished he could turn back the clock and never leave the Spier house. He wished he could turn back the clock and never come out. 

Anna nodded. “He’d told you not to see your siblings?”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight and opening them again. His vision was starting to tunnel. “He didn’t tell me anything, but Pilar and my mother said he threatened them all the time, and said if we saw each other he’d hurt them or kill me.”

“And can you be sure this was about your sexuality?”

Victor bit his lip and winced as his teeth dug into the still-bleeding gash on his lip. “Yeah. He said he would rid the world of my ‘sickness’ and called me slurs.”

“And these were homophobic slurs?”

Victor nodded and scratched at the back of his hand as hard as he could. “He called me a—“ he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I really don’t want to say it.”

Anna tilted her head. “It’s okay, Mr. Salazar. Just give us the information you can.”

The skin on Victor’s hand broke through, and blood dripped onto his slacks. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered, pained. 

Anna turned to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Judge Marinovich nodded. “Defense, please proceed.”

Armando’s lawyer, Mr. Clark, stood and buttoned his blazer. He was a lanky thing, tall with absolutely zero muscle. His light grey suit fit well over his form. If Victor saw correctly, the man was wearing a Rolex. He was a shark for sure. He had a thin nose, terrifying smile, and beady little eyes that made Victor feel so very cold whenever he looked at him. 

“Thank you, Your Honor,” he said and rounded the table, looking at Victor with a very well-hidden disgust. “Mr. Salazar, can you tell me where you were on the twenty-ninth of April?”

Victor nodded and cleared his throat. So, so dry. “I was at the Spier household with Emily and Simon Spier.”

“And you have no familial ties to them, correct?”

His nails broke through another spot. His nervous scratching had caught the eye of the judge, who watched him anxiously as he continued. 

“I- uh—“

“It’s a simple question, Mr. Salazar,” Mr. Clark said with a nasty tone. Victor flinched at the sound. “Just answer the question.”

“Sort of,” Victor forced out. “They’re my family, just not biologically.”

“Can you elaborate on that please?” Mr. Clark asked, sounding bored.

“They’ve housed me, fed me, clothed me, taken care of me when nobody else was there to do that. I love them. They’re my family, even if we’re not biologically related.”

“But they’re not your real family, correct?”

Another area where the skin broke through. He glanced down; there was blood on his fingertips and underneath his nails. He focused on the pain, let that distract him from the harsh reality of Mr. Clark pouncing on him, ready to trap him between his razor sharp teeth.

“They’re not my biological family, no,” Victor said, voice trembling, “but they’re not any less my family.”

Mr. Clark bit back a sigh. “So, these people, your so-called family, are any of them gay?”

Victor froze. Simon looked at him and nodded deliberately. Tears welled in Victor’s eyes; this man was not safe. He was not safe and Armando was not safe. They would kill him, and they would kill all of them if they knew the truth. 

“I-- I don’t want, um--”

“You are on trial, on the stand, Mr. Salazar, I ask a question, you have to answer it. Now, are any of them homosexual?”

Painfully, Victor nodded, curling into himself. His vision was getting dark. He dug his bloody nails into his bloody hand. “Six of them.”

“And what are their names?”

“Objection!” Anna called, standing. “Your Honor, these people other than Benjamin Campbell and the Spiers have nothing to do with this case, Mr. Clark does not need this information to proceed.”

“Sustained,” Judge Marinovich nodded, “Mr. Clark, please move on.”

Mr. Clark glared at the wall for a second before turning back to Victor. “Alright, Mr. Salazar, you said earlier that the defendant had called you names?”

Victor, shaking, nodded. “He called me homophobic slurs.”

“And what were they?”

Victor glanced at Anna, who gave him a resigned look and nodded. “He, uh,” he let out a careful breath. “He called me the f-slur--”

“Which is?” Mr. Clark goaded on.

Victor bit his lip, tasting blood again. _Fuck_ , he hated that word. “F-faggot.”

“And is that it?”

He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. He thought back to that day. “He called me a maricón, which is Spanish for faggot, um, he called me a bitch and a fairy.”

“Anything else?” 

Victor shrugged, praying the torture would end soon. “I don’t remember. It was a while ago.”

Mr. Clark sucked his gums and nodded. “Mr. Salazar, do you think your father is an attractive man?”

Victor furrowed his brows, taken aback. His hands paused their abuse on each other as he stared at the defense lawyer. “Do-- what?”

“Do you think your father is an attractive man? It’s a simple question, son.”

Victor flinched at the last word. He shook his head but said, “I don’t know. I never really thought about it. He’s my dad, that’s gross.”

“But you don’t deny he’s attractive?”

Victor glanced around, trying to find something soft to cling onto until this was over. “I guess? I don’t--”

“Mr. Salazar, have you ever considered fornicating with your father?”

Another wave of audible shock passed through the crowd, and Anna stood. “Objection! Mr. Clark is trying to turn this case into something it is not!”

“Overruled,” Judge Marinovich stated. “The defense claims Mr. Salazar assaulted… Mr. Salazar in self-defense after an attempted sexual assault. This question remains in line.”

Victor swallowed heavily, shaking his head. “I would never. He’s my _dad_.” He scratched at the other hand, relishing the burn as a sweet, sweet distraction. 

“But you don’t deny he’s attractive?”

“I never denied Mia was attractive, either, but I didn’t want to have sex with her.”

Mr. Clark put one hand in his pocket, wagging a finger through the air with the other. “But you cheated on Mia, yes? And since you identify as homosexual, there is no reason you would have ever wanted to fornicate with Miss Brooks.”

“I identify as homosexual, yes, but for a while I thought I might not--” His voice caught in his throat. “I really liked her, okay?”

“But you cheated on her.” 

“That was an accident. A mistake.” Victor sounded like he was pleading. For what, he didn’t know. Maybe for death.

“But you cheated on her, and with your current boyfriend, am I correct?”

Victor nodded, shaking so hard he was practically vibrating. “Yes, but--”

“Does this mean you consider your boyfriend a mistake?”

“No, the kiss--”

“And wouldn’t this mean you were unhappy with your relationship, causing you to turn to someone else?”

“No, I love Benji--”

“And with your past of cheating, wouldn’t it be likely you would have cheated on him?”

“Stop--”

“And last time the person was so unorthodox, and you didn’t ask for permission then either, am I correct?”

“Stop!” He begged, crying, his breath merely at a wheeze. “Please--”

“So, wouldn’t it be likely you would cheat again? And with someone just as unorthodox as the last?”

“Benji, I can’t do it!” He screamed.

“And wouldn’t you go after someone you know? Someone you already love?”

“Benji!” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe--

“Stop!” Benji shouted, rushing forward. “I’m taking him off the stand, and I’m taking him out of here!”

“I’m not done yet!” Mr. Clark said back. 

Victor was bleeding, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe--

“Vic, baby, come on--”

\--and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe--

“Victor, you gotta let go of the seat--”

\--and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe--

“Victor? Hey, it’s Bram and Simon, come on, okay?”

\--and he couldn’t breathe, _and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe--_

“Come on, Vic, just breathe, baby, okay, just breathe--”

_\--and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t breathe--_

“Victor?”

He couldn’t do anything anymore nothing was working his hands hurt so bad but he couldn’t stop scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch-scratching and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe _he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe_

“Victor, listen to me, we’re taking you out of here--”

Armando was looking at him and smiling and fuck he was going to kill him he was killing him he was choking him to death and no one was doing anything

“Recess!”

The gavel smacked and Victor screamed.

And the world went quiet.

***

Benji held Victor on the bench, both silent. Adrian was in Victor’s lap, allowing him to squeeze him to his heart’s content. Emily was on her knees in front of them, wrapping Victor’s hands. 

He couldn’t go back inside. If he went back inside, he’d die.

“I don’t know what to do,” Anna said as she paced behind Emily. “I mean, we can’t put him back on the stand with that monster.”

“So we don’t,” Emily said. She deemed her work complete and rose to her feet. “He doesn’t need this, and we can go on without him.”

Anna shook her head. “They’re going to want to finish questioning him.” She pressed her hands to her head, groaning. “But I don’t want to hurt Victor, I refuse.”

“So do we,” Benji said. “I’m not letting anyone on that bastard’s team _look_ at him. I don’t care what happens. They can convict me of assault if they want. I don’t care. I’m not letting them hurt Victor.”

Anna stopped pacing and looked at them. Victor stared at her. If he closed his eyes, he’d see Armando’s smug face, and Victor refused to do anything which brought him to mind.

“I don’t know. Maybe we can hold off until tomorrow. And maybe we can find a way around putting Victor back on the stand.”

“We better,” Emily said, running her fingers through Victor’s hair. “He’s not going through this.”

“Maybe I can talk with the judge.” Anna resumed her pacing. “I mean, he cares about people. That’s why he’s doing this. Maybe I can convince him to let you off.”

Victor was shaking again. He hated this so much. He just wanted to die. 

“Look,” Benji said, wrapping his arm tighter around Victor, “whatever we do, can we do it tomorrow? Victor needs to go home.”

Anna chewed her lip. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do.”

***

“Mr. Salazar,” Mr. Clark said, “can you tell us your version of the events of the twenty-eighth?”

Armando nodded. Victor shut his eyes against his face and curled in closer to Benji. He wished he hadn’t convinced Anna to leave it be. He wanted to go home and sleep forever.

“I can,” Armando said, making Victor flinch. “I was going to my apartment for lunch when I saw Victor, my son, standing outside. He looked really angry, so I asked him what he was doing there. He said he was staying here. I wasn’t sure what he meant. I thought he was coming back to stay, but that made me really uncomfortable, so I told him he shouldn’t. He said he would, and he would rape me once he was back. I tried to tell him to stay away, but he refused, so I hit him. I told him to stay away from me again, and he again said no and that he would fuck me once he got the chance, so I kept going. It was just to scare him off.”

Mr. Clark nodded sympathetically. “And what do you say about your son saying you’d used slurs?”

Armando shook his head. “I’m not homophobic. I’ve never used a slur in my life. I would never hurt someone like that.”

Mr. Clark nodded. “And why did you kick him out in the first place, Mr. Salazar?”

“He threatened me, so I told him to leave.”

Victor shut his eyes and tuned out the rest. Armando was lying. He was lying on the stand, under God, under oath. 

“He’s a liar,” Benji whispered under his breath. “How are we going to do this?”

Victor rubbed his hands over his eyes, exhausted. “I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Victor is questioned by Anna about what happened the day he was beaten, then Armando's lawyer questions him and accuses him of sexually assaulting Armando. This leads to Victor's PTSD attack on the stand. He and Benji are together and Victor calms down and they go back inside where Armando's lawyer gets his story, which is that Victor threatened to r*pe him


	33. Blood of the Firstborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it continues.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for Amos because at the time he sees it I probably will be wanting him to ANSWER his TEXTS
> 
> bitch
> 
> ily

Victor did not watch the video being shown on the television. He remembered what happened. He relived it enough to know what was going on at any given time. 

Of what he’d seen, the footage was grainy at best as it tracked Armando Salazar beating Victor into the ground. He’d gone on much longer than Victor remembered. No wonder there was so much bruising. Anna paused at a certain point, pointing out where Victor finally stopped struggling after five minutes of beating. She told the gathered crowd and jury that this was where three doctors confirmed Victor must have gone unconscious. After pressing play, the video went on another two minutes before the taped-Armando stood, spat on Victor’s stilled body, and walked away. 

That, according to Anna, was Exhibit A. Exhibit B, which she showed them with a nice segway, was picture evidence of Victor’s wounds from that day, all with the date in the bottom corner. There were close ups of his stitches, his bruises, his cuts and cuts and cuts all over. A very angular picture of what was clearly Victor’s crotch, black and blue with the force with which Armando had kneed him there. A picture of Victor’s face, swollen, with two stitches on his left cheek. His chest, black and blue with three large gashes going jagged through his skin, equally thirteen stitches there. His stomach, shown with six wounds, all stitched up, along with a few smaller ones that had scarred over. His throat with one dark bruise in the shape of a hand. 

Benji whimpered beside Victor; Victor scooched his chair over so they were side by side, letting Benji wrap his arms tight around him. Both of them seemed to loosen a bit with the contact. 

Mr. Clark stood, claiming they couldn’t be sure that was Armando attacking him since the footage was so low quality. Anna pointed out that yesterday Armando Salazar already admitted to beating Victor in this spot on this day, and this was the only beating here to Victor Salazar. Mr. Clark sat, mum.

Victor, watching Anna talk, realized something with deep certainty and relief: Anna Hirsch was like a dolphin. 

See, dolphins on the outside are sweet, kind, harmless animals. However, once put to the test, dolphins were cruel, vicious, fighting things. Dolphins played chase with their food, letting the fish think they could get away before grabbing them, pinning them against the barnacles of the wall so they could get scraped up, and  _ then  _ eat them. Dolphins have been known to bite the hands of humans, to assault humans, to rape humans, to rape each other.

Anna would never do these things. But looking at her, Victor knew she was a dolphin. She seemed kind and harmless, but put her in the water, and she will press you to the barnacles against the walls of evidence she built up in front of you and let you bleed out and die. She was a vicious lawyer, and she damn well knew it. She was a dolphin. And Victor supposed, glancing over at the cowering man, he was right in judging Mr. Clark as a shark. Sharks seem terrifying and strong, they seem like some of the best predators in the world. But really look at a shark, and you’ll know it’s nothing more than a simpleton trying its best to be an apex predator. Sharks can barely see out of their beady little eyes; they can’t distinguish a human on a surfboard from a turtle. Sharks can’t turn around, they can’t see the fish or the ocean behind them. Sharks are simple animals with simple brains. They were just waiting for a dolphin to push them against the wall covered in barnacles, shred their back to pieces, and force them to swim backward, choking them, killing them.

Victor could feel it now. This case would be easy. 

Anna was a dolphin, and Clark was just a little shark. 

***

“So, Mr. Salazar,” Anna said, pacing, “can you tell me what you remember from the twenty-eighth?”

Armando shrugged. “I said it all yesterday.”

“Yes, but I’m asking you to say it again.” 

Armando took a deep breath and sighed it out. Victor stared at him, terrified that if he looked away, Armando would be right in front of him when he looked back, killing him with his bare hands chained together in front of him. “I got out of my car at my apartment, and Victor was there. I told him to leave and he didn’t, he said he would hurt me, so I tried to scare him off. He refused, so I had to keep going.”

Anna nodded. “And why were you home, again?”

“I was finished early.”

Mr. Clark winced in his seat, and Anna bit back a smile. “Really,” she asked, “because I recall you saying yesterday that you were on a lunch break.”

Armando stared at her for a second. “Well, yeah,” he finally said, “I was finished so I went back and got some lunch.”

“So, Mr. Salazar,” Anna said, resuming her pacing, “please tell us the truth. Were you on break or going home?”

Armando sighed. “Well, I was finished early, but I could go back if I wanted.”

“And did you?”

He pursed his lips. “No.”

“And where did you go?”

He stayed quiet for a moment, and then, “I went home.”

“To your current apartment at the time?”

“Yes.”

“Yet, the apartment you’d stayed in at that time was right upstairs.”

Armando was slowly losing his cool. “Uh— no, I, uh, was staying somewhere else.”

“No, in our official timeline, Isabel Salazar, your wife, had evicted you on the first. So ‘home’ at the time was right upstairs, yet you jumped in your car and left. So where did you go?”

Victor watched as the mask of ease was slipping off Armando’s face. He was caught. 

He sighed, averting his gaze. “I can’t remember.”

Anna raised her brows. “You can’t remember?” He shook his head, so she asked, “Well, can you try?”

“I’m telling you, ma’am, I can’t remember where I went.”

“Okay,” Anna said, nodding, “so let me ask you this. Why did you not call the police after you had beaten your son? A smart man like you knows self defense isn’t heavily criminalized, and you knew your son was, as you claim, sexually harassing you and threatening your safety. So why had you not called the police?”

“I was scared.”

“You looked angry.”

“Well, I was scared.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “My son had threatened me twice. I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“So why did you not call the police? You knew your son was dangerous.”

“He was a minor, I didn’t think they could do much. And besides, the police can be biased against someone who looks like me.”

Anna chewed her lip, deep in thought. “So, you were worried about police brutality, so you didn’t call the police on your son?”

Armando nodded, looking almost scared. “That’s right. And I love my son. Even though he did what he did, I love him. I hated hurting him.”

Anna turned to him with a quizzical look. “But, then, why did you continue attacking him?”

Armando shrugged. “He was dangerous.”

“He was not dangerous when he was unconscious, Mr. Salazar.”

“I wasn’t sure if he—“

“You were choking him for some time. Your hand was around his throat. It took two minutes for you to realize he was unconscious, and you spat on him. How do you explain that, Mr. Salazar?”

Armando glared at her, but didn’t answer. 

“Answer the question, sir,” she told him. 

More silence. 

Judge Marinovich spoke up, “Answer the question, Mr. Salazar.”

“I didn’t spit on him,” Armando said slowly, “I was checking on him. And he kept waking up.”

“And he was such a threat half-conscious that you needed to continue beating him?” Anna asked as clarification, walking toward him. “He wasn’t even fighting back, and yet you were strangling him. Speaking of, why were you strangling him for so long, and. Salazar? If you had no intentions of murdering your son, why strangle him?”

Armando seemed unsure of how to answer for a second. “I— well, he… I was just scared. I know that’s not a great answer, but I was scared. People go to extremes when they’re scared.”

Anna seemed unimpressed. “So you beat your son to near-death because you were scared?”

Armando nodded sadly. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t want him hurting me or my family.”

“Yet all other members of your immediate family claim Victor Salazar never once threatened them or you.”

“They don’t always see things,” Armando answered with a one-shouldered shrug. “I didn’t want to believe it at first. They could be in denial, too.”

“So, Mr. Salazar,” Anna said as she resumed her pacing, “we are supposed to believe that in that video of you beating Victor Salazar, your son, you were acting in self-defense?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how long would you say it took you to realize that he was unconscious before he supposedly woke up again?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe a few seconds?”

“And yet you are never seen pausing your assault or deciding to get up and walk away before he becomes conscious. Why didn’t you ever pause to check and see? And if he was so dangerous, why don’t we ever see it in the video? As a matter of fact, he never approaches you in the video. You approached him. Why?”

Armando sighed, getting frustrated. “I asked what he was doing there. I already told you that.”

“But why did you approach him further, knowing he was dangerous? You, if your story is correct, knowingly touched an unstable teenager, seemingly unprovoked. What had he said which pushed you to get physical?”

“ _ Nothing _ .” Armando sighed. 

Victor gulped hard, and squeezed Benji’s hand very hard. Benji squeezed back, tapping the back of his hand three times with his thumb. 

“Okay, it wasn’t nothing,” Armando amended. “I will admit I was rash, but he did threaten me.”

“How?”

“ _ He said he’d rape me _ !”

“But when?” Anna asked. “The day before? The night he came out? Just there on the sidewalk?”

Armando shook his head. “There. And the night he came out. That’s why I had to hit him then and throw him out, too. I felt unsafe.”

“Did you believe him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mr. Salazar, did you have any contact with your son between the night of the fourteenth and the twenty-eighth?”

Armando shook his head. “No.”

“So, why did you still feel threatened if he had made no move on you?”

“Because he was back. What if he had been planning? What if he had been trying? I couldn’t risk it.”

“So, Mr. Salazar,” Anna said, staring at the floor. “We are supposed to believe that your son had been threatening to sexually assault or rape you, which is why you had beaten him? And, despite what evidence says, he was going in and out of consciousness so you decided to beat him even further? And, also, despite what the video shows, we are supposed to believe that you did not, in fact, spit on him, you were just checking on him? And you didn’t call the police because you were worried they’d think you were dangerous? And you don’t remember where you went after beating him? 

Armando nodded. “Yes.”

“But why did you leave your son to die? You do realize he could have died on that sidewalk, correct?” 

He nodded again. 

“So why didn’t you call an ambulance to help him?”

“I knew they’d send police.”

Victor watched as Armando squirmed in his seat. 

“Mr. Salazar, do you have any regrets about what you did?”

He was completely still. Victor held his breath. Benji adjusted his hand, the blood flow certainly cut off from his fingers. 

Finally, Armando said, “I don’t.”

Anna nodded once and turned to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love? for me? Oh dear, please!!!! uwu


	34. If Walls Could Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is just,,,,,,,, uh huh

Victor sat on his phone in the blanket fort, sheets cascading around him in peace. There were river sounds playing on the speakers as Benji and Mia made breakfast in the kitchen, laughing at a joke Felix was telling. Lake crawled inside with two to-go cups of orange juice. 

“Hey,” she said with a smile, though something seemed off. It looked forced. 

Victor took the juice with thanks, then studied her as she awkwardly sipped on her own drink. They were alone, everyone else outside the fort, laughing with ease as they let their minds drift from the case. Victor couldn’t let go that easily. He couldn’t forget the events of yesterday. 

“What is it, Lake?” He asked her as she continued to stare at the soft blanket under them. 

She chewed her lip, worried. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do.” He gently set down his cup, aiming a look at her. “You’re hiding something. What is it?”

Lake sighed. “I don’t really know how to tell you this, but, uh…” she pulled out her phone and showed him a post. But it wasn’t a Creeksecrets post. It was a post from New York Times on Twitter. It was about their newest article. 

The headline read,  **Case of father and son: Victor Salazar against Armando Salazar in assault case**

Victor snatched the phone from her hands and clicked on the link, skimming through the article.

**Sixteen-year-old Victor Salazar came home in mid-March after a school dance. Allegedly, his father beat him and kicked him out. April 28, over a month later, Armando, 42, once again, beat his son on the sidewalk, nearly killing him. Now, in a trial in Shady Creek, Georgia, both lay down their cases for his possible motive.**

**Victor Salazar claims his father beat him because he came out as gay. Armando Salazar claims he assaulted his son in self defense as the boy threatened to rape him.**

**“He said he was going to rape me once he got the chance, and he was saying a bunch of other stuff, too,” Armando Salazar told reporters after the third day of the trial. “I was scared; I didn’t want him to hurt me.”**

**When asked to comment on this, the plaintiff refused saying, “This is between me and my client; we will see what the final verdict is soon enough.”**

**Until then, all we have is heaps and heaps of evidence piling up against Armando Salazar.**

**So far in court, Anna Hirsch, the plaintiff, has shown evidence of Victor Salazar being brutally beaten by Armando Salazar on the sidewalk, plus evidence of his injuries after, while also poking various holes in Salazar’s story of his son threatening to sexually assault him.**

**Armando Salazar, in official footage, can be seen punching the victim seemingly unprovoked, and beating him with excessive force, choking him. Doctors have pointed to a time about six minutes in where Victor Salazar is believed to have gone unconscious under his father’s abuse. After this, it takes another two minutes for Armando Salazar to stand, spit on his son, and get in his car, driving away. Armando Salazar claims Victor had woken up and he considered him a threat, though in the video the teen is entirely unmoving after the point doctors claim he’d gone unconscious.**

**Along with this, the emotional toll the ordeal has taken on the teen has been present multiple times since the start of the trial. In the first two days, he had just as many episodes of screaming and crying and having what can only be described as a PTSD attack or mental breakdown, once at the table and again on the stand, which both caused the trial to halt so he could be removed from the room by his current partner, Benjamin Campbell.**

**When Campbell was questioned about the attacks, he said, “I love him, and I would do anything for him. That man is guilty, he called me slurs right to my face before hitting me. He hit Victor just because he’s gay. He is homophobic, and he tried to kill my boyfriend, and I won’t rest until he’s put in jail where he belongs.”**

**And Campbell would know just as well as anyone else; he’d come face to face with Armando Salazar as well, which was what had originally started the investigation into Salazar and his assault.**

**Video footage was taken from outside a 7-11 on the 29th of April, the day after Armando Salazar had assaulted Victor Salazar outside, of the two having a tense conversation before Armando swung, hitting Campbell. Campbell swung back, but Armando Salazar dodged before three coworkers are seen taking him off the property and a 7-11 employee came out and Campbell ran away. It is unclear what anyone’s motives were in the situation.**

**However, Victor Salazar is not completely innocent. As defense lawyer, Jonathan Clark pointed out, Victor Salazar had cheated on his last girlfriend, Mia Brooks, daughter of university president Harold Brooks, with his current boyfriend.**

**When questioned, Brooks said, “I don’t mind it anymore. At first I did, but now I don’t. I know what he was going through now, and I know how much he was hurting. He was denying himself anything that would’ve made him happy, and he’s always been impulsive. We talked a lot about it, but I couldn’t not forgive him. I love him. He’s my best friend.”**

**When questioned about the cheating as well, Campbell said, “I don’t know, it’s not important to me. I was mad about it, because I was in a relationship and he was, too, and he’d said he was straight, but I knew he was struggling so after a while I just let it go. He’s everything to me, and he loves me so much. He’s never shown even a remote interest in anyone, and he’s been dealing with so much, it’s impossible to stay mad at him. I know that, and I just liked him so much I couldn’t let his mistakes keep us apart. It was just one dumb night, but I don’t regret that he did it.”**

**It seemed Brooks didn’t, either, as she is happily in a relationship with Victor Salazar’s teammate, Andrew Spencer.**

**“Yeah, Mia’s great,” Spencer said when asked about it. “She’s amazing.”**

**And when asked about what happened with his basketball teammate, he said, “Salazar and I never really saw eye-to-eye until after I found out. I’d overheard him and [Campbell] talking about the kiss, and we sort of became weird friends from there. After everything that happened, he was always at a loss. It was really just terrible watching him after he’d been kicked out. No one knew except Felix [Weston], his best friend, but we all knew there was something wrong. He looked like he wished he was dead. And there were times after that, after everything was better and he went back to living with his mom, when he just… forgot. I bodychecked him by accident during practice, and he stayed on the floor for a whole minute, just, so confused. There was this time he dissociated for three days. It was really hard watching it. I always wished I could do more. I tried to help as much as I could, but that couldn’t ever be enough.”**

**Felix Weston, though, helped more than anyone. When Victor Salazar had been kicked out of his family’s apartment, Weston found out and let Victor stay with him for over a month.**

**“He’s my best friend,” Weston said. “He’s my brother. What would you do?”**

**With everyone on Victor Salazar’s side and an abundance of evidence piling up, it seems the case will be pretty cut and dry. But not everything is what it seems.**

**The trial still goes on in Shady Creek, Georgia.**

Victor stared at the words as Lake chewed her lip, watching him.

“What the fuck…” he muttered. 

“I’m so sorry, Victor,” Lake said softly, squeezing his arm. “It’s trending. But you might not want to read the comments on that post, though.”

“Why?” Victor asked, clicking back so he could do exactly that.

**Who does this kid think he is?** One person wrote. 

Someone else said,  **Poor guy. He was just trying to protect himself.**

**Why focus so much on the kid? It’s the dad who deserves coverage.**

**Anyone else getting Giovanni Melton vibes from this? Dads never want a gay kid. RIP Giovanni, hope Victor gets justice!!!**

**All homos are like this. They spread their sickness to everyone around them. Victor, this is a sign from God. Repent!!**

**Oh this is so obviously a lie from the defense he was just too proud and homophobic to plead guilty. Guys like him never think they did anything wrong. Thoughts and prayers to Victor** **🙏🙏**

**Oh, that poor boy. Sending my love to Victor Salazar!**

**What did I just read? Why do these kids care of this fag lives?**

**Wow, what a terrible dad. Poor Victor**

**This** **👏is👏why👏we👏need👏gay👏rights👏👏👏👏👏👏**

**Wow this article isn’t biased against the dad at all** **🙄🙄🙄🙄 funny how all the homos see something with a gay person and immediately jump to their defense without giving both sides a chance.**

**What a terrible thing. Why tf would you write about this? Poor kid should just be left alone to deal with this in peace. Some friends he has giving statements to a fucking reporter**

**Good. I hope this kid gets jail time.**

**Oh poor Victor. He has PTSD and shit from his dad beating him, and you all have the goddamn nerve to say he deserved to die or that his dad was innocent? Fucking please.**

**That fag deserves to die**

Victor blinked hard, his eyes burning. “Oh.”

“I’m so sorry, Victor,” she whispered. 

He crawled out from the fort, Lake’s phone still in hand as she followed him. Benji smiled when he saw him. “Hey, baby.” His smile fell when he saw the look on Victor’s face. “Is everything okay?”

Victor dropped Lake’s phone onto the counter. “Why would you talk to them?”

Benji stared at him, lost. “What are you talking about?”

“ _ The reporters. _ Why would you talk to them? They wrote an article using quotes from all of you except Lake and Pilar. The  _ whole country _ has seen it.”

Benji’s eyes went wide and his face paled. “I don’t know what you mean. I never talked to any reporters.”

Mia, Andrew, and Felix shook their heads, all expressing they hadn’t either. 

“Well then how did they get your quotes?”

Benji picked up the phone and scrolled through the article, his eyes bulging so wide Victor thought his eyeballs might fall from their sockets. 

“Vic, I-- I swear, I thought it was just some regular dude. He was sitting on our side of the court and I thought, since I never saw him before, I thought he just wanted to know a bit more about everything. Victor, baby, I am so,  _ so _ sorry.”

Andrew took the phone from his hand, scrolling through the article. He bent down so both he and Mia could read it together. Mia was tearing up by the end of it. 

“Oh, my God, I really thought he was just some person. He was really curious, I just thought he wanted to know which side he was on, I--” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Victor.”

Andrew stared at the phone screen, aghast. “I am so sorry, Salazar,” he said sadly. “I really just thought he just wandered into the courtroom or you knew him from Texas or he was someone we didn’t know… I am really fucking sorry.”

Felix took the phone. “I don’t remember even talking to someone.”

“Your quote is at the end,” Victor told him, choking back tears. Benji put down his spatula and rounded the counter, pulling Victor to him as gently as he could. 

“I’m really, really sorry,” he whispered as Felix read through it.

Victor shrugged, wiping his face. “I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s out there. Probably would have gotten out there either way. And it seems people are mostly taking his side.”

Benji shook his head. “No, Vic. You’re innocent. Armando will be found guilty. He has to be.”

Felix shook his head. “I’m sorry Victor, I feel terrible about this. I didn’t know he was a reporter.”

Victor shrugged and leaned against Benji. “I don’t want to go back.”

Benji stroked a hand through his hair. “It’ll be okay, Vic. No one will hurt you. No one will be there. And if that bastard is back, I’ll punch him in the face.”

Victor shook his head, but let out a wet laugh all the same. “I think one assault case is enough for a lifetime.”

Benji nodded. “Yeah, I guess.” He kissed his cheek, then put some eggs on a plate. “Eat up. You’re a growing boy, you need your protein.”

Victor rolled his eyes, but sat down and ate anyway.

***

The hardest part of the day was easy.

“Mrs. Salazar,” Mr. Clark asked Isabel, “how did you feel when your son originally told you he was gay?”

Anna and Mr. Clark had spent the first half of the day grilling Pilar about the first night Armando had assaulted Victor, asking her over and over about the events and how she felt about them and what she saw and, Mr. Clark, will you please shut up, she’s told you this was the truth one hundred times now.

After this, they put Isabel on the stand. She’d gotten through Anna’s questioning, and now Mr. Clark, the useless shark he was, had the chance to ask her the same questions he’d asked Pilar, and for the last twenty minutes, they’d been just as stupid as they were earlier.

Isabel pinched her lips together and cast her gaze down at the ledge in front of her. “I was confused at first. He was my son, but everything I’d been taught…” She sighed. “At first I thought he was lying to get back at us. We’d just told them we were separating, so it would have made sense that he would say something he didn’t mean just to make us angry, because he was angry. So, at first I thought he was just saying the first thing he could think of to make us upset. But then Adrian said something, and I realized he was telling the truth.”

“And what did Adrian say?”

Isabel pursed her lips. “I can’t remember his exact phrasing, but he asked what the word ‘gay’ meant.”

“And what did you tell him?”

Isabel shrugged. “Nothing. No one answered him. That was when Armando stood up and started yelling at him about raising him right.”

“Did you?” Mr. Clark furrowed his brows as he looked at Isabel.

Isabel cast her gaze around as if looking for the rest of the question. “Did we… what?”

“Raise him right,” Mr. Clark finished, exasperated.

Isabel raised her brows, dropping her jaw. “Excuse me? Of course we did! My son is the kindest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. I am so glad he is in my life, and I would never do anything to change who he is. He loves Benji, and I’m glad he does! Benji is an amazing kid, and I am proud to call them my sons.”

“But he’s gay,” Mr. Clark continued. “How did you raise him right if he’s gay?”

Beside Victor, Anna rolled her eyes so hard all Victor saw were the whites of her eyes. Before she could say anything and object, though, Judge Marinovich butt in and said, “Mr. Clark, you are being very disrespectful to the LGBT community. Stop this line of questioning right now, and move on.”

“Your Honor, with all due respect--”

“ _ No _ ,” the Judge interrupted. “It’s homophobic. Move on.”

Mr. Clark clenched his jaw, then released and moved on. “Mrs. Salazar, how did you feel after that initial confusion passed?”

Isabel glanced at Victor, remorseful. “I felt, well, hurt. I couldn’t figure out where we had gone wrong. I couldn’t figure out if this was my fault, or Armando’s, maybe Adrian’s because we let him be so feminine, I wasn’t sure. I felt heartbroken. My son wouldn’t marry a woman, and I thought I only had myself to blame.”

“And what about when your husband was hitting your son?”

“I was angry. He was my son. I didn’t care about the reason. He was my son.”

“And when he was sexually harassing your husband?”

Isabel rolled her eyes. “That never happened. Armando is lying to get out of jail time, because he is too proud and callous that he doesn’t care what he does to others. Victor never, and I mean  _ never _ said  _ anything _ to Armando about sex. He said he was gay. And Armando hit him and threw him out for it. He was still wearing his suit from the dance. He just… he said he was gay. He was begging Armando to understand. And he hit him instead.”

Mr. Clark took a deep breath. “But what about after that? Surely you must have felt some sort of anger towards your son after he left.”

“Well, yes and no,” Isabel said with another careful look at Victor. “He was my son, but I was more mad at myself. I did this to my son, and I let Armando hit him for it. I let him kick him out. So I packed up as much as I could into a bag and brought it to him and told him I’d find a way for him to come home.”

“But you would have brought him home even if it was dangerous for your husband?”

“Don’t call him that,” Isabel said, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. “He won’t be my husband much longer, and I despise him. He is not my husband anymore.”

“Mrs. Salazar, just answer the question.”

“Victor would have never been dangerous for Armando.” Isabel sat forward. “Mr. Clark, sir, if Victor were truly planning to hurt, assault, or rape Armando, wouldn’t he have done it by now? Wouldn’t he have shown some signs prior?”

“I’m asking the questions here--”

“Wouldn’t he have just done it before coming out?” Isabel continued, ignoring his interjection. “Why would a boy as smart as Victor not think that it would be better to do it without ever coming out than to come out, threaten to do it so he could be kicked out, possibly detained, and maybe even murdered? And Armando is much lighter than Victor, wouldn’t you agree? So why would Armando be more afraid of the police getting him than Victor? Armando, as smart as he is, would have known it’d be in his best interest to call the police instead of having  _ this _ happen. So, why didn’t he?”

Mr. Clark stared at Isabel, and Isabel just stared back. 

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all know the drill pls love me uwuwuwu


	35. Here I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> y'all can thank Amos for this this chapter was not supposed to go up tonight but here we are. postin. for Amos. 
> 
> even though he SHOULD be ASLEEP
> 
> love u all ilyyy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a good chapter

Victor was drowning. His eyes burned from the saltwater. Tears and tears and tears and tears and tears made up the ocean.

He was being pulled down, down, down.

Tears and tears and tears.

Benji took his hand, pulling him up. He had scuba gear. Victor did not. He couldn’t breathe.

Victor could see the sun shining above Benji through the water. It was blinding. 

The sun was shining below him. It was darkness.

Tears and tears and tears and tears.

Two pairs of hands pulled at each leg. He kicked and kicked, but they didn’t let go.

He looked down, trying to kick off whoever had a grip on him. 

It was Armando and Mr. Clark. They were smiling with three sets of shark teeth.

Victor’s chest screamed, begged for air. He gasped, pulling water into his lungs. 

Tears and tears.

It hurt. His chest would explode.

Down down down.

Tears and tears and tears and tears and tears--

Victor sat up, gasping for air. He coughed, as if coughing up water. His chest ached and burned, his lungs screaming in pain. He whined, wheezing, doing anything he could to get more air. He couldn’t get enough air.

“Victor,” Benji said softly, rubbing his back. “Victor, it’s okay, it was just a bad dream.”

“I was drowning,” Victor sobbed. “They were pulling me down.”

Mia crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. “Victor, it’s okay,” she said.

“I couldn’t breathe,” he cried, trembling. His chest felt like it’d explode. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, baby, it was just a bad dream,” Benji repeated, gathering him into his arms. He rocked him side to side, gently, gently, humming a lullaby under his breath. Victor cried into his shoulder. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“They were pulling me down,” he said, his voice a whimper. “Sharks--”

Benji kissed his head, carding his fingers through his hair. Pilar crawled over and curled up in Victor’s lap, humming along with Benji, harmonizing. Felix, Lake, and Andrew came over and sat with them as Victor cried, shaking, burying himself into Benji as much as he could. 

When Victor’s sobbing finally subsided to just hiccups, Lake got him some water and everyone lay down with him after he finished it. Benji held him tight on his chest, and everyone lay around them in a puppy pile, Pilar beside Benji, her head pillowed on his stomach, her arm thrown lazily over both of their middles, Mia at Victor’s back, tucked tight to him, Andrew behind her, his arm wrapped tight around her middle, Lake stuffed Benji Pilar and Benji, her head below Pilar’s on his abdomen, and Felix curled up above their heads, his head just barely touching Victor’s. 

Victor felt the presence of everyone there, his friends, his family, his green and gold and purple and blue. He took a deep breath, matched his breathing to theirs, matching his heartbeat to theirs, matched his ease to theirs. Benji, half asleep, muttered, “I love you, Vic.” 

Victor closed his eyes and took another deep breath, whispering, “I love you, too. All of you.”

And, somehow, he found it within himself to fall asleep.

***

“Mr. Salazar,” Mr. Clark began, pacing in front of him. He had one hand in his pocket, the other in front of his face inspecting his cuticles. “You say Armando Salazar, your father, beat you because he is homophobic, yes?”

Victor nodded, doing his best to breathe. Kim had taught him some good breathing techniques for days like these. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Without meaning to, Victor dug his fingernails into the back of his hand, opening up the scabs he’d spent days trying not to anxiously pick at. “He, uh-- well, he hit me… calling me homophobic slurs, and as a direct response to me saying I was gay.”

“But how can you be sure?” Mr. Clark pressed. Victor hated this man to his very core. “You have yet to provide real evidence which says the defendant actually assaulted you on account of your sexuality.”

There was some angry rustling all through one half of the crowd. Everyone seemed to be getting tired of the tales this lawyer was consistently spinning. Victor thought he even saw the judge rolling his eyes. 

“Sir, I believe we have given quite a bit of evidence,” Victor said through clenched teeth, scratching viciously at his hand. It burned so bad, but he relished in the distraction.

“It’s your word against Armando Salazar’s. Who are we supposed to believe, the forty-two year old man, or the gay teenager?”

Victor stared at him, his fingers pausing their attack on his other hand. “The gay teenager. You want to know why?”

Mr. Clark rolled his eyes. “Tell me.”

“I have provided video evidence of exactly what happened and, so far, four testimonies of what he’d said, and counting. I think it’s more than just word against word here.”

Mr. Clark closed his eyes. “Mr. Salazar, please. I am asking you the questions here.”

Benji rolled his eyes so hard Victor could only see the whites of his eyes. Victor stifled a laugh as best as he could, still letting out the tiniest snort. Benji smiled softly, and both Mr. Clark and Judge Marinovich glared.

“Something funny, Mr. Salazar,” Judge Marinovich asked. 

Victor flinched at his tone. “N-no, Judge Marinovich. I’m sorry.”

The judge nodded once. “Proceed.”

“Mr. Salazar, how can you be sure he actually was assaulting you based off of your sexuality?”

Victor sighed. “He had a history of saying or doing homophobic things, and he hit me insulting me based on my sexuality and using homophobic slurs.” Victor reminded him. “I think he made it pretty damn clear.”

Mr. Clark nodded, though he didn’t seem to take in any of Victor’s words. “And what homophobic things did he say or do in the past?”

Victor squeezed his eyes shut, begging his brain to stay in line. He didn’t want to think. He couldn’t think too hard or it would kill him. The past would kill him. 

“He, uh…” Victor gulped. “He made fun of a gay guy in church.”

“Hardly amounts to attempted murder,” Mr. Clark said with a laugh.

Victor shook his head. He was trembling now. “That was just the first thing that came to mind. He also, um… My boyfriend and his now ex-boyfriend came to my birthday party and they kissed and my dad tried to make me tell them not to.”

“Again,” Mr. Clark said with a shark smile, “not really equivalent to what you accuse him of.”

“But there’s not just that. He also said he wouldn’t know what to do if Adrian turned out gay, and he prayed he didn’t.”

Mr. Clark rolled his eyes as there was a nervous shift that seemingly went through the crowd. “And anything else?”

Victor scrubbed at his face, trying to think of a way to get rid of his anxious energy. He wanted Benji, wanted him to hold him, needed him to tell him it was okay. He needed Benji to hold his hands and keep him from scratching until he bled and keep going through the pain. He needed Benji. He needed someone to let him know he would make it through this dastardly trial.

“Mr. Salazar,” Mr. Clark said, exasperated and infuriated. The tone made Victor flinched, and he whimpered. “I am asking you a question. Answer it.”

Victor whimpered again, but did his best to steel himself and keep going. He was made of steel grain, aluminum wool wrapped around his muscles and bones so nothing could penetrate his skin to his heart.

However, steel wool had one too many gaps. 

Mr. Clark’s anger-laced words shook Victor down to his very core, and he couldn’t get his father’s voice out of his head. 

_ You’re poison. _

“Please, I just want to go home,” he heard himself say, though he barely registered it.

“Mr. Salazar!” Mr. Clark boomed. Victor cried out and cowered in his seat. “I am asking you a question and I damn well expect you to answer it!”

“Object!” Anna shouted. “He’s emotionally manipulating my client!”

“Sustained,” Judge Marinovich stated. “Mr. Clark, if you cannot keep from pushing this boy to his limits, you will no longer be allowed to question him.”

“He hit his boss!” Victor choked out. Everyone went silent, and he let out a betraying sob. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “He hit his boss for having an affair with my mom. He beat him out of anger.” He looked at Mr. Clark, eyes and voice pleading with him to hear him and understand. Pleads to let him go, let him leave, let him be held again. “If he was capable of doing that when he was angry enough, why isn’t he capable of doing this?” Victor asked. His voice cracked. “He abused me because I am gay. And I will not let you belittle me for that or deny this anymore. And that’s what we will prove to you. I have never wanted anything from my father but for him to accept me for who I am, and he couldn’t even do that.” Victor coughed, his chest twisting and head pounding. Fuck, he needed some water. “I don’t know why you’re doing what you are to me, but I can’t take it anymore. My father beat me, and it gave me two mental disorders, and you are triggering that every single day. I won’t let you anymore.” Victor stood. His legs were shaky, his knees so wobbly he thought they’d give out any second, but he held himself tall. “I’m done.”

He walked to his seat next to Benji and sat with a draining huff. 

“I’m exhausted,” he said softly as the judge did his best to decide how to move forward. Mr. Clark was glaring at Victor from across the room. Benji flipped him the bird.

“I’m so proud of you,” Benji said. “That was awesome.”

“Awesome, indeed,” Anna said, her brows raised as she studied the floor. “But at what cost?”

Victor groaned. “I don’t care. Get me a bed.”

Isabel reached over and stroked the back of his head. He closed his eyes as her nails scratched gently over his scalp. “Soon, my love.”

He nodded and leaned his head back into her soft touch. “Okay.”

The judge banged his gavel. “Recess!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello I love ~ATTENTION~


	36. I Am Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji is

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk this chapter was supposed to be very different but it is so long and the next chapter is gonna also be sorta like this one was supposed to be but eh idk enjoy her

“So, if you look to the screen, you’ll see Mr. Campbell following Mr. Salazar outside,” Anna pointed with her finger to where tiny Benji was on the screen by the slushie machine, then to Armando closer to the register. On-screen Benji put down his empty slushie cup and followed Armando as he left. “And then it will switch to the outside camera…” Anna continued. The view changed, and they were looking at the two right outside the door. Benji seemed angry, tense as he spoke to Armando, and then his demeanor changed. He relaxed his shoulders and un-balled his fists, shaking his head to himself. The Armando on the screen laughed, though his face was contorted into a disgusting sneer. “And this is where Armando Salazar punches Benjamin Campbell--” Armando swung suddenly, striking Benji in the face (Victor gasped, jumping in his seat), “--and Mr. Campbell swings back and misses.” Armando ducked out of the way. “And here is where people get involved and both parties leave the scene.” Anna finished. Victor watched Benji, clutching his face, look between the people around him, then run. The footage stopped once both of them were out of view.

Victor glanced at Benji, staring at him, searching his face for any trace of the bruise that had been there. It felt like a lifetime ago. It felt like years, decades, centuries since then. The bruise had long faded since, but the memory of Benji in pain plus the fresh sight of him getting punched in the face was enough to leave a new wound in Victor’s brain. 

Brains scar, too.

Benji was called to the stand, and he swore under oath, then sat down. Isabel held his hand while Andrew, right behind him, reached forward and clapped a hand onto his shoulder, squeezing three times--everyone had noticed by now that he and Benji do that, and they’d all taken a liking to the practice-- and he held it there, stroking his thumb gently to keep him calm. Victor reached up and squeezed his hand back, letting the purple into his heart, but never taking his eyes away from Benji as he smiled at him from the stand.

“Mr. Campbell,” Anna started gently, “can you tell me what you remember from that day?”

Benji nodded, shifting in his seat. Victor took a deep breath and Benji glanced over at him with a small, encouraging smile. Victor hated that Benji was up there in the hot seat, and even then he was still the one reassuring Victor when it should have been the other way around. How worthless was he?

“Well,” Benji said, “the day before Victor had gone on a walk. We were staying with the Spiers for Spring break since Felix was out of town and Victor was staying in his apartment. So, the Spiers were kind enough to let us stay while Vic couldn’t be in Felix’s apartment. We were sitting in bed after we got situated, I think a bit before noon, and Victor was really jittery so he said he would go on a walk. He came back, like, eight hours later and he was… well, you all saw the way he looked. And that was the next day. 

“So, Emily Spier, our honorary mom, took care of him and I kept him all night, and the next day my dad was already making me go back home in the morning to help break up a couch, and my dad was never really… ah, accepting of my sexuality and that part of my life, so I decided to go so I didn’t raise any suspicion until I decided what I would tell him. So, we broke up the couch and I got some energy out, and he asked me to go to 7-11 and get some slushies and hotdogs.

“So, I went, and I was gonna get myself a slushie, when I saw Armando. I wasn’t sure it was him at first, but I heard them calling him Armando and I saw his right knuckles were split and I had met him before, so I figured it was safe to say he was my guy. And I just saw red. I wasn’t thinking. He went outside, and I followed him out, and I told him I just wanted to talk. He called me a couple slurs and approached me, but I didn’t move because I’ve never really been the best at deescalating bad situations. And he told me to back off, but I didn’t. So he hit me. I swung back completely as a reflex. I took karate when I was little, and it sort of was just always they punch, you punch. Then his work buddies came out and were dragging him away saying something about laws and minors and an employee came out and I just… I was so scared and confused and worried about Victor, I just ran.”

Anna nodded. “So, would you say he assaulted you with motives based around homophobia or anger toward you and his son?”

Benji shrugged. “I think maybe both. He threatened Victor right to my face and called both of us slurs.”

“Such as?”

Benji squinted at her like he was looking at the sun. “Uh, the f-slur. Fairy, queer, homo. I can’t remember if there was anything else. Just, you know, textbook homophobe.”

Anna nodded. “And he was the one who approached you first, yes?”

Benji nodded, too, glancing at Armando before back at the lawyer. “Yes. I stayed a safe distance away, but he came up to me. And then he told me to back off, but I didn’t. I don’t really know why. I was definitely to blame there, but I didn’t really think it through. I just figured that I was standing there first. He approached me, he was the one who cared how far apart we are, he should move away. And I figured that I still wanted answers, and if I cowered to him, I wouldn’t get them.”

“Answers to what?” Anna asked, her brow arched high.

Benji shrugged, his eyes sad. “Why he did that to him. All Victor wanted was a family. People to love him. Why’d he have to take that away from him? Why would he try to kill him? His own son.”

Anna closed her eyes, nodding. She opened her eyes again and trained them on Benji. “And did you ever get your answers?”

“Other than the fact that he was homophobic and still planned on murdering my boyfriend if he ‘came too close?’” Benji asked, using air quotes. “No. Not really.”

“And you came to these conclusions because of the slurs?”

Benji nodded. “And he said… I can’t remember how he said it exactly, but he said to tell Victor if he ever saw him again he’d kill him.”

Anna paced a bit away, thinking hard, her heels clacking in the silence of the courtroom. “And why did you come off the defense? In the video, you are seen tense, and then you relax. You aren’t angry anymore. Why? What happened?”

Benji looked directly at Victor and said, “Giovanni Melton.”

Victor stared back. He remembered that name from one of the comments on the article yesterday. What did he have to do with this?

“Can you elaborate please?” Anna asked, brows furrowed deeply. She seemed just as confused as everyone else. 

Benji shifted his gaze to her, then let it travel to everyone’s faces as he spoke, “A little while ago, there was a boy named Giovanni Melton. He was fourteen years old, mixed, and gay. He was a good kid. Everyone loved him and his bright spirit. He had a boyfriend and a foster mom who loved him. 

“His dad, though… not so much. His dad abused him physically and mentally and spiritually for a while. And it was based entirely on the fact that he was gay. Allegedly, he found his son with his boyfriend and pulled a gun on them. 

“Eventually, his father murdered him. Giovanni Melton died at age fourteen because his father would’ve rather had a dead son than a gay son.

“And I was standing there in front of him, in front of Armando, and I just kept thinking… what if Victor was the next Giovanni?” Benji’s gaze landed on Victor and held there. Andrew’s hand tightened on Victor’s shoulder as Benji continued, “What if Victor died at the hands of someone he loved, someone who was supposed to love him. Someone who  _ had _ loved him until not too long before. What if Victor was murdered by his father, and he just became another hashtag? What if he died and people sent their thoughts and prayers but did  _ nothing _ and nobody cared?” He looked to Anna, face pure pain and anguish. “What if he died and I did nothing? What if I caused it? What if I made it worse?”

He took a shaky breath and sighed it out, dropping his eyes to the ledge in front of him. “I love Victor more than anything. And I couldn’t do something knowing there was the possibility it’d get him killed. What if he died and it was my fault?” He looked at Victor, eyes so, so sad. “What if I loved him so much that it was the death of him?”

Anna tilted her head, trying her best to push back her own emotion. Everyone, Victor supposed, in a position like hers was best seen as unemotional as possible. More of a robot than a person. “So, you remembered the tragic death of a young boy and you tried to act so Victor didn’t suffer the same fate?”

Benji nodded, running a hand impatiently through his hair. “I just needed to make sure I didn’t go too far and make Armando angrier.”

“What did you think would happen if you did make Armando angrier?”

Benji shrugged, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. “Beat me the same way he beat Victor. Kill me or Victor. I don’t know. I was scared to find out.”

Anna nodded sympathetically. “So, why did you hit him back again?”

“It was completely reflexive. If I actually thought about it, I would’ve just run. No use in hitting someone back when they’re so much more likely to overtake you. But I wasn’t thinking. I just fought back.”

“Did Armando know you just wanted to talk?” Anna asked next.

Victor glanced at Armando. His lawyer was saying something softly; Armando did not look happy. Victor looked back to Benji for his answer.

“He did. He asked if I was going to try to hit him, so I told him I just wanted to talk. That was when he started threatening me and Vic.”

“And by ‘Vic,’ you mean Victor Salazar?”

Benji nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Force of habit.”

Anna smiled softly, understanding. “It’s fine, just want to be clear.” The smile left her face. “And you felt threatened then? Did you think Armando Salazar would make good on his threats toward you and your boyfriend?”

Benji nodded. “I did. He’d already hit him twice. Victor already said he was trying to kill him. He was so scared and in pain all the time, I was certain I’d end up the same way. I kept trying to remind myself I was in public, anyone could see and he knew that… but Victor was in public, too. Just the day before. Every time I go to his apartment I see the pool of blood dried on the sidewalk.”

There was some rustling in the crowd, and Anna nodded before turning on the TV, pulling up a picture of the apartment building. She zoomed in on the sidewalk in front, just off-center, just to the left of the outside steps. “This dried blood?” She asked Benji, who nodded with an uneasy look.

“Yeah. I’d been to his apartment before. That wasn’t there.”

Anna nodded and pulled up a second picture. “You’re right.”

This picture was of everyone outside the building right before the Spring Fling. They all had their arms around each other. Mia was kissing Victor’s cheek. Felix had his head dropped on Wendy’s. Lake looked flawless next to the dope that was Kieran. Pilar had refused to be in the picture.

Felix and Wendy were on the edge, and you could see the ground that was now stained auburn. It was just a regular sidewalk in the picture.

“This is a picture of everyone on the night of March fourteenth. If you look here,” Anna gestured to the ground behind Felix, “you can see that there is no red stain.”

She pulled up another picture, this one of a boy Victor knew lived below them; he was holding up two blue ribbons. 

“This picture,” Anna said, “was taken of the downstairs neighbor to the Salazars the day he won the Spelling Bee. April twenty-sixth. Two days before the outside beating of Victor Salazar.”

“Objection!” Mr. Clark called lazily. “We already know Mr. Salazar was beaten on the twenty-eighth in that spot. Ms. Hirsch is wasting our time.”

“I promise there’s a point,” Anna told the judge.

He glared at her. “Then make it.”

She nodded, too, and went back to the first picture. “This picture was taken on May eighteenth.” She said and gestured to the dark spot on the ground. “There had been several storms between the twenty-eighth of April and the eighteenth of May, and even after this. Victor Salazar had been beaten so brutally that blood stained the sidewalk beyond a regular washing. It had a pressure washer scheduled monthly.” She went to another picture. “This picture was taken May twenty-ninth.” She pointed to the spot. Although a bit lighter, the dried blood was still there. “The blood is there.

“Mr. Campbell, did Victor Salazar have any blood transfusions?”

Benji shrugged. “Not that I know of. But then again, I was sort of at home, out of commission when he went to the doctor.”

Anna nodded. “Right. And how was he in the days after the beating?”

Benji’s face went dark as he stared at the floor for a prolonged period of time before saying, “He was quiet. He had a lot of nightmares. He was always really non-confrontational, and it wasn’t like he was really before everything went down, but he used to be, at least a little bit. My ex and I were at his birthday party, and his dad and granddad wanted him to tell us not to kiss in their apartment or whatever, so he told them off. He used to be really impulsive, like when he kissed me, but after… everything happened… he really did anything he could to keep from upsetting someone. He had nightmares every single night. He’d wake up screaming and thrashing and dissociate for days at a time. Directly after it happened, when we were still at the Spiers, he sometimes spent days in my arms just… staring. He wouldn’t respond to anything anyone said or did, he wouldn’t talk to us, he wouldn’t eat or drink or anything. He just sat there or laid there, staring at the TV or off into space. It was terrifying.”

“And he has gotten help, yes?”

Benji nodded. “It took a while, but we finally convinced him. He was diagnosed and medicated and he sees a therapist. He still has nightmares about Armando. He just had one last night.”

“Did he tell you about it?”

Benji nodded again, but he looked at Victor. “I don’t think it’d be good to tell everyone. They’re always really bad, though. He always wakes up crying and shaking and it takes forever to get him back to sleep.”

“And how often are you actually around for his nightmares?”

Benji sighed and pushed his hair back. “I mean, at first not too often, but every night now. Whenever we aren’t in the same bed, we’re always on the phone so if he wakes up I can talk or sing to him and put him back to sleep.”

Victor smiled to himself. He was lucky. Benji was perfect.

Anna smiled, too. “That’s nice. So, it happens every night?”

Benji nodded. “His mental health took a huge hit.”

“And what about yours?”

Benji blinked. “What?”

“Your mental health? How did it change after everything that happened?” She explained.

Benji chewed his lower lip, and Victor strangely just very much wanted to kiss him.

“Well, I, uh… after getting punched? Not really much of a change there, but everything with Victor? The beatings, the fear, the trial, taking care of him? I think that probably took a bit of a toll on me.” Benji explained. 

Andrew squeezed Victor’s shoulder again, but Victor felt his face fall anyway. He knew this. He knew he wasn’t good for Benji. He would only hurt him, he would ruin his life and ruin his brain, he--

“ _ But _ ,” Benji continued, looking right at Victor as he spoke, “I love him. I wouldn’t trade that boy for anything. He’s my everything, and I could never really be hurt by him or what’s going on. Just looking at him and seeing his smile… that’s worth the world. That keeps me sane when it feels like I’m just about anything but. And I am so worried about him, and that worry takes a toll, but I will always be here for him, doing anything I can. We love each other. And I’ll do anything he needs me to.”

Anna smiled again. Victor liked her smile. It felt so very safe. “That’s very nice, Mr. Campbell.” She smoothed her serious mask back on and said, “I do have one more question to ask you, though.”

“Shoot,” he said with a shrug, turning his gaze back to her.

“Armando Salazar claims he assaulted you in self-defense as you threatened to sexually assault him, as well. What do you say to that?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s ludicrous. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to bone every man I see. Hell, I have very high standards for men I find attractive, and you can ask anyone. They’re typically in my age group. I don’t even think Andrew is attractive, and literally anyone would think Andrew is attractive. I’ve never,  _ ever _ been one to look at someone and want them like that outright. Victor was a first. I definitely felt something for him right away, but I met Armando at Victor’s birthday, and I knew he was a homophobe, too. I don’t really go for homophobes. Call it a gay thing or whatever you wanna call it. I’m also not as much of an idiot as you might think I am. If I knew Armando had beaten my boyfriend to a bloody pulp for the same reason I was about to approach him, I would’ve stayed the fuck away from him. I don’t find Armando Salazar attractive, and I don’t really have a thing for older guys, that’s gross. I’m sixteen. I don’t want a forty-year-old man. And no amount of questioning is going to prove otherwise.”

Anna nodded once and turned to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

He turned to Mr. Clark. “Defense, you may proceed. And please, be less emotionally triggering. You are dealing with children, here.”

“Children who threatened the safety of my client,” Mr. Clark said, standing.

“As you continuously say but have yet to prove,” Benji shot back, rolling his eyes. 

Mr. Clark didn’t seem happy with his tone. “I trust you’re less…  _ sensitive  _ than the other boy?”

Benji visibly held himself back. “The only reason my boyfriend is having mental breakdowns on the stand is because you keep triggering his PTSD. If you questioned him with dignity and respect instead of constantly outright accusing him of things he didn’t do and forcing him to constantly relive his trauma, then maybe,  _ just maybe _ you’d actually get something instead of just forcing him to tears all the time.”

They stared at each other, glaring, and Victor scooted his chair over as quietly as he could to lean into his mother. She wrapped her arms tight around him, pushing blue into his veins to keep him steady'''''''. Andrew squeezed his shoulder three more times then let go, as Victor was too far away from the position to still be at all comfortable. Isabel said a quick thank you to him over Victor’s head as she stroked his hair. 

“Mr. Campbell,” Mr. Clark said slowly, “I think you might want to watch your tone with me.”

“Treat my boyfriend with the dignity you treat Armando with, and I’ll give you the respect you  _ think _ you deserve.” Benji said.

“Mr. Campbell,” Judge Marinovich interrupted, “please cooperate.”

“I don’t need to give him respect to answer his questions properly. I can talk to him however I want to talk to him and still give valid answers for the case. He’s the one refusing to start the questions.”

Judge Marinovich shrugged. “I suppose so. Please stop wasting our time, Mr. Clark.”

Mr. Clark glared so heavily at Benji that Victor thought he might burst into flames. Benji looked at him, nonplussed. 

“Are you going to question me or not?”

Mr. Clark stuffed down his anger and forced a smile. “Yes, yes, of course.” He took a deep breath. “Can you please tell me your motives behind dating Victor Salazar?”

Benji raised his brows, blinking rapidly. “Uh, I love him?”

“Love who?”

“ _ Victor. _ ”

“But what about his father?”

“I literally just said I don’t find him attractive, what’s your angle?”

“I will ask the questions here, Mr. Campbell,” Mr. Clark said simply. “Now, how do you feel about his father?”

“I hate his guts. He ruined my boyfriend’s life.”

“So would you want to get even with him? Life for a life?”

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to hurt people. I felt bad for hurting my ex when someone else kissed me when I didn’t even want them to.”

“Ah, yes, let’s talk about that.” Mr. Clark said with a smile.

Benji groaned. “God, please take me now.”

Andrew snorted, and Victor couldn’t help but smile. A charming man, Benji was…

“You were dating someone at the time that Mr. Salazar kissed you for the first time.” Mr. Clark said.

“Yeah. What of it?”

“If you didn’t have any feelings for your current boyfriend, why did you break up with your ex-boyfriend for him?”

Benji stared at him. “Because I  _ did _ have feelings for him. Are you new?”

Andrew laughed again, and Victor turned just quick enough to watch him school his face. 

“Mr. Campbell, please,” the judge said tiredly.

“You’re right, my bad,” Benji said with the utmost respect in his voice. It drove Mr. Clark mad.

He glared at him sharply. “If you have something to say, damn well just say it.”

“Okay,” Benji said, “I will.” He sat forward, hands clasped together on the ledge in front of him. “I think you’re a homophobic asshole who knows your client is lying and very much in the wrong, but took the case anyway because you want to try to penalize two teenage boys for being in love and make sure a guilty man walks away pretending his innocent all because he has the same beliefs as you. But, Mr. Clark, you must have realized by now you are hilariously overshadowed in evidence, proper questioning, witnesses, and just logic. My boyfriend is innocent. Neither of us would have ever done anything to Armando Salazar, as we both have morals.” He shrugged and narrowed his eyes at the lawyer shifting uncomfortably in front of him. “If this were the 1800s, we would be convicted alone just for being homosexuals on sodomy charges. Our lives would be ruined, and you would be deemed a hero for putting away two bad, bad sinners. Everyone would automatically believe Armando Salazar’s story simply because he’s straight and  _ why _ would a story about two predatory gays ever be wrong? But, Mr. Clark, this is not the 1800s. This is 2019, and you are not doing a very good job of convincing anyone of the lie you two are trying to pull off. Why do you think everyone has been corroborating the same story? Because it’s the truth.”

Mr. Clark stared at Benji. Everyone was shocked into silence and Victor just watched Benji watching the lawyer. 

“Shit,” Anna muttered under her breath. 

Victor just nodded, an abundance of gold in his chest. “Uh huh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls love me?? I need validation


	37. Here. I. Am.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more.  
> Here I am.  
> I am here.  
> And Here. I. Am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for Amos bc he's been having a rough day so I'm posting early to hopefully cheer him up a little :)
> 
> I hope you're all doing well and having a wonderful day. 
> 
> <3

“Mr. Salazar,” Mr. Clark said, “how have you been feeling toward this whole ordeal?”

Armando took a shaky breath, his eyes downcast. Victor could feel that the words on his lips were a lie, falsehood after falsehood staining his tongue bitter, turning Victor’s ears to dust. He had to hand it to him, though, the man was a hell of an actor.

The day was about to end. Jeff and the doctor had testified today, both claiming how severe Victor’s injuries were. Apparently, the doctor had given Victor an IV to help with the blood loss while he was in the hospital that evening, and Victor just forgot. Jeff had given him, in total, eighty-seven stitches all over his body, his face, his head, his torso, his legs. They’d both been worried about the blood loss, but Doctor Price claimed Emily had given him enough fluids and sugar to get his blood back up.

The defense had also spent their only three witnesses they had, Armando’s three coworkers, who turned out to be absolutely useless on either end. They only knew Armando had punched a kid and they took him away to avoid trouble or something worse. He never told anyone what happened. Victor figured it was because he was too embarrassed to admit he had a gay son he’d beaten just less than twenty four hours beforehand.

Victor watched, now, as Armando was asked the same question he’d been asked days ago. Did he have regrets?

“I feel terrible,” he finally answered. 

Benji groaned, but it was barely loud enough for Victor to hear it, let alone anyone else. Victor lay his head on Benji’s shoulder, squeezing his hand three times and running a hand down his back in an attempt to calm him. Benji squeezed back and dropped a kiss on his head. Armando saw it, and his lip curled back, but he carefully pulled his mask of remorse back on and continued talking.

“I’ve been feeling awful. I never wanted to hit my son. I never wanted to hit anyone. I hated it, and I hate thinking about it. I know that what I had to do was necessary for my safety, but I still feel so terrible. And I feel scared. I mean, those two have been sitting right there this whole time. They could hurt me at any time.”

Victor sat up. Armando was using Victor’s fears to his own advantage. He was _lying_. He was making himself a victim completely. It was Benji’s turn to try to calm him, but it didn’t work. Victor had been dealing with this man’s mind games too long to be subdued.

“I was ready to accept my son the second he came out but he started saying these… things to me.” _Right like anyone corroborated that story._ “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I wish I could just have my son back with me.”

Anna put a hand down hard on top of Victor’s. He was breathing heavily, infuriated, ready to leap over this table and throttle that man and turn this into a _very_ different trial.

“I loved my son. I still do. I wish things could be different.”

_Liar._

“I wish things could go back to the way they were, with things out in the open, my son openly gay and being who he is.”

_Liar._

“I feel so very terrible about what happened.” His eyes were welling up with tears.

_Liar._

“I just wanted my son.”

“And _I_ just wanted my _father._ ” Victor screamed back. 

Anna squeezed her eyes shut in a grimace. Benji looked at Victor, face frozen in shock. 

Armando stared at him, his eyes suddenly dry. “W-What?”

Victor stood from his chair, glowering at Armando and Mr. Clark. “I just wanted my father to love me.” He said.

“Mr. Salazar,” Judge Marinovich shouted, “sit down!”

“I just wanted my father to love me!” Victor repeated, tears pooling in his eyes. “And you wouldn’t. You refused to accept me as who I was, and now you’re lying about it. Under oath! How could you do this to me? I thought I was your son no matter what! I thought we were family!”

“Mr. Salazar!”

“Victor, sit down,” Anna whispered, but Victor wouldn’t sit by while Armando smeared his name after he’d tried so hard to rebuild it here. He couldn’t. 

“What happened to ‘my family means all,’ huh? _What about that_ ?” Victor was screaming, his tears flowing onto his face. “You know you don’t care what you did, so tell them! Tell them how proud you are that you beat two defenseless kids in the street! Tell them how proud you are of being a homophobe, how disgusted you were to have a _faggot_ as a son!”

“Victor!”

“Tell them what you did to me! Tell them what you said to me!”

He sobbed, but he refused to look away from Armando. His face was burning mad, but his eyes were scared. He was scared.

Well, because of him, so was Victor. 

“I just wanted you to love me,” Victor sobbed, his energy gone. “I just wanted a family. But you took that from me. And you can’t even admit it.” He shook his head. “You won’t even admit the truth.” He blinked the tears from his eyes and locked his gaze with Armando. “I thought I was a coward because I was hurt by you, but I know I’m not. You’re the coward. You won’t even admit what you did. You won’t even admit you’re proud of it.” He closed his eyes. “And you know what? I don’t care.” He opened them again, and saw the fear in his father’s face, the insecurity and, surprisingly, a whole lack of anger. “Just don’t be surprised when they find you guilty of assault.”

He dropped back into his chair, letting Benji pull him to his chest. He cried into the stunned silence of the courtroom. 

“I think that’s enough today,” Judge Marinovich said, and banged his gavel. The world was silent, but Victor’s head was so loud.

“I’m so proud of you, Victor,” Benji said, his own eyes wet. “You did so good.”

Victor just shrugged. “Can we go home?”

“I have something better in mind.” Benji said with a smile. 

Victor just shrugged again. “Okay.”

“Perfect.” Benji kissed the top of his head then let him go. “Lets go.” 

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment pls comment pls comment I don't think y'all realize how much I love your comments I save quite a few and literally look back at them AT LEAST once a day bc they just make me so happy


	38. We Can Mend the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all are lucky I love Amos as much as I do bc he is the only reason this is coming out right now

They sat at a circular table for thirteen, Victor between Benji and Simon. He kept glancing around the table, in awe of how many people right here loved him. 

Everyone Victor needed right then was here, Simon, Bram, Justin, Kim, Ivy, Nora, Pilar, Mia, Andrew, Lake, Felix, and Benji. They each gave him a hug and an “I’m proud of you” when he and Benji got there, and right off the bat everyone agreed on the number one rule of the night: No Case Talk.

“So,” Simon said after they ordered drinks and appetizers, “when do you guys find out who got what for finals?”

“A lot of us were exempt from finals, actually,” Mia told them. “Because of the whole… everything.”

Simon nodded. “Oh, that’s nice. I would’ve loved being exempt from taking all of my finals.”

“Math will be the death of me,” Justin agreed. “I’m a fashion major, not an engineer. The only thing I need to know is how to use a tape measure.”

“Well,” Lake said, scrunching her face, “and area and volume and a lot of geometry, but yeah, I guess.”

Justin gave her a look. “Do not logic math into my life. I spent eighteen years math-illiterate, don’t remind me.”

Felix tilted his head. “What about math do you have trouble with?”

Justin shrugged as the waitress came back with drinks. “Gays can’t do math.”

“It’s true,” Simon said with a sigh. “Between the five of us, we might have an  _ almost _ passing math grade to show for our mathematic struggles.”

Victor sipped on his water as they spoke, listening but not really grasping their words.

Benji laughed. “Oh man, I can relate. It is an actual miracle I didn’t have to take the math final. Our teacher just grades homework based on completion so I just do the homework, the quizzes we can get help on and do as many times we want so I can get decent grades on those, the tests we can also get help on so I don’t fail, but I don’t do great, so all in all, I ended up with a B. Taking the final? I’d fail big time.”

Andrew chuckled and ran his fingers through the condensation on his glass. “Victor, can you do math?”

Victor shrugged, his mind barely half-present in the conversation. “It’s not my strong suit.”

Benji frowned at him. “Victor, you’re making that upset scrunchie face. What’s wrong?”

He shrugged again. “Nothing. I’m here.”

“Stop thinking about the trial.”

Victor sighed. “We’ve been here five minutes and I already broke rule number one. It’s literally the only rule!” He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

Benji ran a hand through his hair and planted a kiss on his cheek. “It’ll be alright. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Victor said, a smile blooming over his face. 

“You two are so cute together, I swear to God,” Kim said with a smile. 

Benji threaded their hands together, thanking them. Victor got lost tracing Benji’s face with his gaze. His long hair framed his face, a bit of a mess from a long day of anxiously messing with it. His eyes crinkled with his smile, warm as they gazed around the table at whoever was talking (Ivy about her marine biology final). The gentle curve of his nose, his angular cheekbones. His dimples when he smiled, and the slight lines around the corners of his mouth, too. And his  _ lips _ , good God, Victor could kiss them all day long, tracing them with the tips of his fingers, reveling in how soft and full they were. His angular jawline casting shadows along his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed a sip of water. Victor could sense just where his pulse was, and his fingertips buzzed with the idea of touching it. He shifted his hand so his fingers could graze the pulse in his wrist, a gentle beating as he laughed at Ivy talking about some weird biologist coming to speak to her class. Victor marveled at the softness of his skin, the gentleness of his hands smoothed over with callouses on his fingertips from years of plucking at guitars. With one hand, Benji used his calloused fingertips to stroke the back of Victor’s hand, and with the other, he mindlessly drew shapes in the condensation in his glass. The lighting of the pizza place cast a soft yellow glow onto Benji’s skin, making him look nearly ethereal in the night. Victor raked his gaze over Benji again, taking in his chest, his shoulders, his throat, his smile, the way his eyebrows quirked as he watched Victor staring at him.

Victor realized all too late that the table had gone quiet and everyone was watching him. His face went hot and he slipped his hand from Benji’s grasp, taking a sip of water to counteract the heat that had taken over his body.

“Did we interrupt you, Victor?” Justin asked pointedly as he sipped on his margarita. 

Victor stared at the edge of the table, rubbing the back of his neck. “No,” he muttered, trying to ignore twelve gazes boring into his face.

“Hm?” Justin said, almost a shout. “We can’t hear you, honey.”

“Justin, leave him alone,” Bram said with a laugh, swatting him.

“Yeah,” Kim agreed, taking a sip of their daiquiri. “The boy’s in love.”

Victor’s blush deepened, and he tried to speak as confidently as possible, but couldn’t ignore the voice cracks as he said, “So, uh-- what’s, uh-- how have you guys been in college?”

“So you want us to pretend you  _ weren’t  _ ogling your boyfriend, okay,” Bram said, taking a long, pointed sip of his water.

“Victor,” Simon said, stuffing down a laugh, “it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victor said, stuffing his mouth with a dinner roll to avoid talking.

Simon rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Benji tugged Victor’s hand back while Lake urged Ivy to continue telling the story and everyone gave her their attention. Thankfully, Benji said nothing. But apparently Victor hated himself, because he leaned over and whispered, “Sorry I was staring at you.”

Benji gave him a weird look, his brows furrowed. Victor must have pissed him off. He’d have to apologize later.

The night wore on. Everyone ate the group appetizers as Felix told them about how he was a meme in Japan (he dressed up as a banana when he was fourteen and did a video singing a song about bananas, which was now a nationwide commercial that the Japanese Generation Z had turned into a meme). 

They ordered five pizzas to split among everyone, plain, pepperoni, sausage (“Simon, I understand your innuendo and I would like to remind you we are in public.” “Bram, could you maybe not say that directly in front of the waitress?”), mushroom, and a white pizza with spinach which Victor and Andrew both immediately said they would not be touching. 

Simon told everyone about how he and Bram met after some prompting from Lake, and Victor was  _ finally _ able to get the full, complete Simon and Bram story about how they came to write to each other and fall in love. How Bram got the guts to come out to Simon, to everyone. How proud they both were to kiss this boy, a boy they’d known for years, for the first time. How much they loved and hated Martin Addison for bringing them together, even if it was the worst, most scarring way possible. 

As they ate pizza, Mia told everyone they were invited to Veronica and her dad’s wedding. She told them Veronica was healthily heading into the second trimester, and she had begun to get closer with her. She was a wonderful woman, as Mia was reluctant to find. And Mia was her Maid of Honor. And Andrew would be her father’s Best Man. 

They also talked about Benji’s band, who had changed their band name to In the Atmosphere (which was a damn cool name, if Victor did say so himself), and they were looking for a pianist and backup singer, to which Pilar said she loved piano, and Victor pointed out she was a really good soprano. Benji seemed excited, and as much as she tried to hide it, Pilar did, too. They worked out an audition date. Victor was excited for his little sister. She loved music and she loved playing music and, as much as he knew she would hate to admit it, she really liked Benji. Victor knew both she and Adrian had come to see him like another older brother with how much he was over to babysit, help out, and take care of Victor. Victor was so, so happy his family loved Benji as much as he did.

Over cannolis, they talked about pride month coming up soon. Justin looked up parade dates, and everyone agreed on one in late June, when they all knew “the mess” would most likely, hopefully be very much over, and they could move on and be happy and celebrate. Victor tried not to dwell on the little  _ if Armando is proven guilty _ thoughts niggling at the back of his mind, and he allowed himself to be carried on with the rest of the conversation, Justin and Lake talking fashion and Simon and Bram talking in hushed tones and Mia, Andrew, Ivy, and Kim talking about the wedding and Pilar and Benji talking about music. Nora and Victor connected eyes over the table, and they laughed together about nothing and everything all at once. 

So, this was what it was like to be happy. 

Victor might just be able to get used to this.

***

They all got back to Lake’s, exhausted, and did their best to figure a decent changing schedule so they could get to sleep and wake up tomorrow to be miserable all over again. At least tonight Victor had everyone; the New York crew was staying the night inside the pillow fort, too.

Benji pulled Victor upstairs to a spare bedroom where Lake suggested they both get changed. She sent Victor a quick wink, then shut the door behind them. Victor sat on the bed, sighing.

“Long day,” Benji said with a light huff, ambling over toward Victor.

“Tiring day,” Victor added with a nod, his hands tucked between his knees. “But, a good tired,” he added as he thought over the day. “At least, I think.”

Benji nodded, too, sitting between Victor, just close enough for their shoulders to graze. 

“Benji,” Victor said slowly, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier.”

Benji gave him a look, similar to the one he’d given him when Victor apologized the first time. “What do you mean?”

Victor shrugged. “At dinner. When I was… looking… at you.”

Benji’s gaze drifted to somewhere between Victor and the stars, lost in the memory of a moment in time. There was something in his eyes that Victor couldn’t quite place. “What is it,” he asked, unsure he really wanted to hear the answer.

Benji retrained his eyes on Victor, giving him a small half-smile. “I wasn’t…  _ uncomfortable _ , per say.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “But… you seemed upset.”

Benji shook his head, chuckling softly. “No, Victor, I most certainly was not upset. I was… I was kind of, uh…” 

“You were…” Victor goaded, lowering his head to meet Benji’s gaze, which had dropped again. “Come on, B, help me out here.”

“I thought it was really… cute.” Benji finished. Victor felt his face heat at the admission. “And hot.” Benji added, watching him. “Especially that little blush of yours. Every time I think I know just how gorgeous you are, you somehow just get even more beautiful.”

Victor shook his head, moving to put distance between himself and Benji, overwhelmed by the tight air between them. “I, uh--”

Benji grabbed his hand, swallowing hard, his gaze piercing when Victor looked up at him again. 

“Victor,” Benji whispered, “you are so beautiful.”

Victor stared back, his breath shallow. “You are too.”

“You never have to apologize for looking at me,” Benji added, giving him a soft kiss, merely a graze of lips. “Never.”

Victor nodded, swallowing hard, refusing to take his eyes off Benji’s. “Okay.”

Benji’s eyes flicked between Victor’s eyes and his mouth. “You know how sexy you look in a suit?”

“Tell me,” Victor breathed.

“I’ll show you,” Benji said back, and surged forward, capturing Victor’s lips with his own. 

Victor grunted, almost caught off-guard, but he caught up quickly, kissing back with the same fervor Benji had, the same passion singing in each little wrinkle and fold of Benji’s skin, in between each skin cell and molecule, under each fingernail, all focused on their closest central points, his hands, his lips, his hips. Victor moaned, drunk off it all, and maybe the sips of beer Simon let him sneak from his bottle. 

Benji groaned low in his throat, something guttural and so damn sexy Victor could barely take it. He moved to straddle Benji, but was pushed back. Victor pulled away from the kiss, the only way he knew to voice his confusion by whimpering, his brows furrowed. 

“Relax, Vic,” Benji said, running a hand down his back. Damn, they were really doing that a lot, weren’t they? “I have something else in mind tonight.”

Victor nodded, letting Benji take control. He loved nights like these, when Benji was confident and strong and Victor could let him guide them together to the finish, their climax, the closest they could ever be. So, he gave Benji the reigns and allowed himself to surrender tonight.

Benji shifted so they were more comfortable on the bed. He stroked Victor’s cheek before moving back in, kissing him again, this time with purpose. There was a place to go. 

They kissed slowly but deeply, with intricate, languid movements that moved them closer together, tensed every muscle in Victor’s body. Benji unbuttoned Victor’s suit jacket slowly, slipping his hands underneath with an intense heat in his palms. Victor followed his movements, unbuttoning Benji’s jacket and sliding his hands underneath, pushing it off. They kissed like that before they broke apart suddenly, and they stared at each other, panting, before Benji grabbed Victor by his tie and pulled him up. Victor obliged, following Benji’s wordless orders. Benji pushed him against the wall, his expression so lively yet so unreadable. Victor, nevertheless, saw the arousal in his eyes, sensed it in his confidence, felt it press against his thigh. He whimpered and shifted so his own cock was pressed to Benji, who groaned at the feeling. Victor just watched as Benji very methodically loosened his tie before doing the same to his own, throwing it behind him, then kissing him again, the same way he had on the bed, slow, deep, long, his tongue surging inside Victor’s mouth. Victor moaned and Benji swallowed it up, his confidence renewed with each sound Victor let slip.

Benji fumbled with Victor’s shirt buttons as he swirled his tongue around Victor’s. Everything was so, so slow. Victor could barely take it, but he refused to speed up. Benji was going slow for a reason, and despite how desperate Victor was to pick up the pace, he let his boyfriend take over, let Benji do as he pleased. He trusted him. He trusted him.

Benji pushed Victor’s shirt open, the cold air hitting his bare chest, before moving to mouth along his jaw, letting Victor gasp for air and regulate his breathing and unbutton Benji’s shirt as he traveled behind his ear, nipping there, making Victor’s knees go weak, before traveling down his neck. He sucked at Victor’s pulse, biting softly at his skin before laving his tongue over the mark, claiming Victor as his own. 

Victor groaned at the feeling, so drunk on the touches and tastes and smells of Benji he could barely stand upright. Thank God he had a wall.

Benji kept moving down, down, down, pulling his shirt off and tossing it behind him as he went, before dropping to his knees and looking up at Victor.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Oh  _ God. _

“Benji--” Victor said, breathless.

Benji sent up a quick smile, and Victor could see the nerves there, the uncertainty as he reached for Victor’s belt. Victor’s breath was punched out of him at the sight of seeing Benji, shirtless and hard, his lips swollen and slick with spit from being kissed so much, on his knees in front of Victor. There was so much intent on his face. Victor wasn’t sure if he had stopped breathing altogether or if he finally took a breath for the first time. This was a new experience he was very happy to be having.

“I have done this before,” Benji said. “This isn’t the first. This is just the first time I really… I care. I guess.”

Victor, unsure of what to say, just nodded dumbly, watching Benji undo his belt, then his pants, before sliding them and his underwear halfway down his thighs, his dick springing free. Victor stared at him, so in love and overwhelmed he would probably die before he ever spoke another word.

Benji took a deep breath, looked up at Victor, then took the head of Victor’s cock into his mouth.

Victor let out a loud groan, his voice already wrecked by it all. He panted as Benji slowly started to suck him off, the slick velvet heat of his mouth like a sweet sonnet. Benji swirled his tongue around the head, tonguing at the tip. Victor felt every bit of tension leave both their bodies as he moaned, leaning back so the wall held him entirely. Benji’s shoulders rounded out as he watched him, then slowly, slowly, he took more of Victor into his mouth. 

Victor watched in awe as Benji kept going. He moaned, and Victor just about lost it as the sweet vibrations traveled to his dick. Benji swallowed around him, and it was all Victor could do to keep from moaning so loud everyone two floors down would hear him. He reached down, threading his fingers through Benji’s hair, cupping the back of his head as he bobbed slowly on Victor’s dick. 

He let his head fall back against the wall with a thump, reveling in the sensation of Benji’s mouth, the heat coiling tight in the base of his own stomach as Benji worked him slowly, slowly, slowly. It was just about driving Victor insane how slow Benji went. However, Victor let him go, surrendered to the feel of Benji moving back, his tongue grazing against the head once again, pressing against the slit, before he moved back in, taking more of Victor into his mouth each time. Victor could feel the head of his dick brush the back of Benji’s throat, and they both lost their breaths at the same time. Victor was left, panting, while Benji pulled off quick and gagged. 

Victor stroked his cheek, wiped away the spit and precome that had dripped from his mouth. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice barely loud enough for either boy to hear. “Just do what you can you don’t need to--”

Benji shook his head, and when he spoke, his voice was raspy and used and so, so sexy. “I want to.” 

Victor nodded, their eyes locked, his breath kicked out of him once again when he saw the intent in Benji’s eyes. “Slow,” Victor reminded him. Benji nodded before putting his lips back to the head and taking him back into his mouth. 

All over again, Victor was blown away by the sensation of Benji’s mouth on his dick, his lips wrapped snugly around his cock as he bobbed his head. Victor swiped his thumb through spit that was slipping out the corner of Benji’s mouth, then buried his shaking hands in Benji’s hair. He watched Benji, couldn’t imagine ever watching anything else, as he took him in, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch, the tightest heat taking over Victor bit by bit. Fuck, Victor was so very close.

“Benji--” Victor panted, restraining his need to thrust into Benji’s mouth. “B-Ben, I’m… Fuck, Benji, I’m close…” 

Benji took Victor in all the way, swallowing around his cock, and Victor once again felt the head brush against the back of his throat, and it was all too much. He tightened his grip in Benji’s hair and wrenched him off his dick just as the band snapped inside him, and he hunched over as he came, Benji’s hand coming up to jack him off through it. 

Victor sank to his knees, his whole body gone lax. Benji held him up, and Victor’s mouth searched for his before his lips finally landed on Benji’s. Victor’s tongue pushed between his lips, and Benji let him in, let him taste the saltiness left on his tongue, let him taste himself in the recesses of Benji’s mouth. Benji groaned lazily as they kissed, and Victor very much needed to get him off right now. He wasn’t sure exactly how much he could do given his limbs felt like jelly and his brain was hazy, but there was nothing in the world more important than Benji reaching his own climax. After everything, that was what Victor needed most. He needed Benji to be happy. He needed him to feel good.

Victor was trembling as he reached between them and undid Benji’s pants. He slid them down, exposing Benji’s hard cock. Victor whimpered at the sight of it.

“Vic,” Benji whispered, cupping his face with both hands, “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna.”

Victor looked Benji in the eyes, saw the love in his gaze, the intensity, the arousal. Victor licked his lips. “Stand up.”

Benji did as he was told, stepping out of his pants while he did. He put his back to the wall, and Victor gazed up at him, naked and beautiful and looking down at Victor with all the love in his body.

“I, uh…” Victor started, his voice breathy, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Victor, you don’t have to,” Benji said seriously, but Victor shook his head.

“I want to. But you just have to tell me if it’s terrible,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

Benji nodded, breathless, and watched in awe as Victor pressed forward and took the head of his cock into his mouth.

Benji’s head hit the wall with a thud and a low groan, and Victor watched him carefully as he gave a small suck, pressing his tongue to the head just as Benji did. Victor just kept replaying everything Benji did that felt good, and he wanted desperately to do all of them. He wanted to make Benji feel so, so good. He wanted Benji to feel everything. 

Victor swirled his tongue around the head of Benji’s cock, reveling in the noises Benji made, each moan and groan and whimper. Victor catalogued exactly what he did which made each noise, and repeated the same things to hear it again. When Victor flicked his tongue over the slit, Benji gave a low whimper, and the sound made Victor’s fingers buzz, so he did it again just to hear it. When he swirled his tongue around his cock, Benji let out a deep groan, and Victor made sure to do it over and over so he could keep hearing it. He bobbed his head a little, making Benji gasp, so Victor did it again and again just to hear that sweet little sound. 

Benji kept watching him, kept looking down at him with soft eyes and complete and utter awe as Victor gave him head, something he had never done before, definitely thought about loads of times, but he’d never done it, and Benji just kept looking at him with this naked admiration as Victor did his damn best to make Benji feel good, and Victor couldn’t take it. Benji loved him so much. It seemed almost impossible for Benji to love him as much as Victor felt it in that moment.

Victor slowly, slowly, slowly started taking more of him in his mouth, focusing on flattening his tongue and opening his mouth as wide as it could go, relaxing his jaw to fit as much as he could. Benji was panting over him, watching him intently, reminding him, “Slow, Vic,” and wiping away whatever dripped down the corner of his mouth and stroking his cheek, telling him how good he was and what felt good. Benji ran his hands through his hair, grunting out a, “Yeah, that’s good,” every time Victor did something favorable. By the time Victor got about half of Benji’s cock in his mouth, Benji had his hands wrapped tight around the longer hair at the top of Victor’s head, his eyes squeezed tight as he tried desperately to fight off his orgasm for just a bit longer; neither of them wanted this to end quite yet.

But, bodies do as they please, and Benji whispered, “Victor, off, I’m gonna--” and Victor pulled off just as Benji came, semen dripping down his dick as he did. Victor watched his face, his mouth open on a groan, his eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed down, panting with the force of his euphoria. 

As Benji came down from this high, his face slowly relaxed, and he eased his eyes open, heavy-lidded and drunk on the haze that had taken over his brain. He used his grip on Victor’s hair to pull him to his feet, wrenching him into a deep kiss, mixing the tastes on their tongues, the leftover flavors of each of their cocks making both of them moan. Victor pulled them to the floor, where they made out lazily, Benji tracing his fingers over Victor’s skin, pressing his back into the shag carpet of the guest room. Victor was starting to notice the slight rug burn on his knees, but he didn’t care. This experience was worth it. Everywhere Benji touched him was gold.

After they lay there for some time, Benji half on top of Victor, his pelvic bone pressed uncomfortably into Victor’s (neither complained), Benji suggested they get changed and head downstairs. Reluctantly, Victor agreed. 

While Benji was changing in the en suite (which was just ridiculous to Victor, they just had their dicks in each other’s mouths, surely they could get dressed in the same room), Victor stole a pair of Benji’s pajamas, sending a quick prayer of thanks that his smaller boyfriend tended to go a bit (very) big in pajamas, buying everything in the sizes Victor would usually wear when he could probably get by shopping a size down. Victor was beyond thankful; now he could steal his clothes.

Apparently, as Victor noticed when Benji finished changing, Benji had had the same idea, because he was wearing a pair of Victor’s sweatpants (which were a little loose on him)(adorable) and a shirt that was big on Victor (again, adorable). Benji took one look at him, and his face broke out into a huge smile. 

“You are so beautiful,” he said, kissing him.

Victor smiled, too, in love with Benji and the sight of him in his clothes and the fresh memory of him in no clothes at all. “So are you.”

Benji led him downstairs, where they crawled inside the blanket fort, met by an abundance of cheers and jibes.

“Get it, prefrosh!” Justin yelled at the top of his lungs.

Victor flushed red, but he smiled. Yes, he just had sex with his boyfriend. Yes, it was fantastic. Yes, it took a while. What of it?

Benji put his back to the couch and Victor sat between his knees, leaning his back into Benji’s chest. 

“I love you,” Benji said, kissing his shoulder. 

Victor took his hand and kissed the back. “I love you, too.”

“You guys missed High School Musical 2,” Kim informed them.

Benji furrowed his brows while Victor laughed. “That is the third time you’ve watched that godforsaken movie  _ this week _ , don’t you want to watch something else?”

Bram rolled his eyes and crawled over to them, sitting beside them. “How’d it go?”

“Fantastic,” Benji answered back immediately. Victor felt his blush deepen, but couldn’t deny Benji’s answer, nor could he add anything of importance, so he just laid his head back on Benji’s shoulder and flashed Bram his most innocent smile he could muster.

Bram grinned back. “You’re good,” he said, passing a hand playfully through Victor’s hair. “You’re good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls comment your comments make my day


	39. Blood Ties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowee I'm sorry guys this is my first time in almost a week migraine-free. I was pretty anxious so I decided to write so there might be a lot of typos idk but I wanted to get this out bc i feel bad. Love you guys <<333

Anna was talking quietly with Benji, but Victor tuned it out. He focused only on the din pressing in around him and the feel of Benji’s hand in his. He pressed each finger to the back of Benji’s hand, one at a time, thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky, thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky. Benji rubbed small circles idly into the back of Victor’s hand as he spoke with the lawyer. Victor did his best to let that ground him, and after a while, he counted backwards with each press of his fingertip to Benji’s skin. 

Thumb, index, middle, fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight. 

Andrew sat down behind him and reached out, squeezing his shoulder as a silent show of unity. Victor shot him a thankful smile, and Andrew returned it as he let go. 

Ring, pinky, thumb, index, forty-seven, forty-six, forty-five, forty-four. 

Victor’s phone buzzed; a text in the New York. He picked it up and unlocked the phone, pulling up their chat. 

Middle, ring, forty-three, forty-two. 

He snorted once he saw the latest message; Justin had sent a meme, the anime where the guy had mistaken the butterfly for… God, Victor couldn’t even remember the original format, but someone had edited it so the guy was labeled “Victor” and the butterfly “hey, I’m Mike.” The text at the bottom read, “Is this nice?”

Pinky, thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky, forty-one, forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six. 

He typed back,  **Real funny ha ha**

Thumb, index, middle, thirty-five, thirty-four, thirty-three. 

Justin sent back a smiley face. 

Ring, pinky, thumb, index, thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty, twenty-nine. 

Victor got a notification from Felix, so he switched over to their chat. 

Middle, ring, twenty-eight, twenty-seven. 

**Hey I just heard the judge talking he’s gonna say something about yesterday ://///**

Pinky, twenty-six. 

Victor’s breath stalled as he reread the message and forced himself to type a quick ‘thanks.’ No matter what happened, Victor had a feeling it wouldn’t go well. 

Thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky, thumb, index, middle, ring, pinky, twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen. 

**I’m here for you buddy :((**

Thumb, index, middle, fifteen, fourteen, thirteen. 

“All rise for Judge Marinovich.”

Ring, pinky, thumb, twelve, eleven, ten. 

Victor got to his feet, and Benji squeezed his hand as they stood together. Victor didn’t dare squeeze back, lest he break his rhythm. 

Index, middle, nine, eight. 

“You may be seated,” Judge Marinovich said. 

Ring, pinky, seven, six. 

Victor sat back down, his head swimming. 

Thumb, five. 

Benji squeezed his hand again, shooting him a nervous look. 

Index, four. 

Victor didn’t squeeze back. He didn’t break his rhythm. He didn’t squeeze back. 

Middle, three. 

“You alright?” Benji whispered as the judge got situated. 

Ring, two. 

Victor didn’t answer as the judge banged his gavel, making him jump, announcing that court is back in session. 

Pinky, one. 

“Victor Salazar, please stand.”

Zero. 

Victor released his death grip on Benji’s hand and got to his feet, stuffing down his panic and desire to flee, looking the judge in the eye. It was almost physically painful to do so. 

“Mr. Salazar,” Judge Marinovich started, “I understand you have been through quite a bit, yes?”

Victor nodded. He was shaking all over. He prayed the judge couldn’t tell. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Do you think,” the judge said slowly, “that justifies you speaking out of turn and disrupting my court?”

Victor shook his head, tears stinging his eyes. “No, Your Honor.”

“So, tell me why you chose to speak out of turn.” 

Victor blinked a couple times, forcing the tears back. “I don’t— uh, I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking—“

Judge Marinovich was shouting now as he said, “You could have ruined the whole trial, do you understand that, son? You could have incriminated yourself or said something that could have ruined your chances of finding Armando Salazar guilty, do you understand that?”

Victor bit back a sob, nodding so hard his head might fly off. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be reprimanded. The judge was right. He spoke out of turn. He disrupted court. “Yes, Your Honor,” he tried to say, but it barely came out a whisper. 

“The truth is, I have been far too lenient on you during this trial,” Judge Marinovich went on. “On both you  _ and _ Mr. Campbell. You’ve both been reluctant to answer the defense attorney’s questions and you’ve been constantly disrupting my trial! And why? What is your reasoning?”

Victor shook his head. Something touched his hand—Benji—and he flinched so hard that he knocked into Anna, who steadied him. Victor forced out, “I don’t know, Your Honor.”

Judge Marinovich looked at him carefully. “Given the evidence, I am inclined to rule in favor of you and continue this trial as is. But, listen to me, son.”

Victor looked up at him, meeting his eye through the tears. 

“Your outbursts will no longer be tolerated. One more from either of you and I will have to penalize you for contempt. I don’t want to do that, but I will. This is your last warning. Understand?”

Victor nodded. “Yes, Your Honor.”

Judge Marinovich nodded, too, satisfied. “Sit.”

Victor rushed to sit down, and Benji pulled him close. Victor stifled a sob, and Isabel poured him a cup of water, which he chugged quickly. 

He deserved this, he knew that. That didn’t make it any less terrifying. It didn’t make it any less triggering. 

“Plaintiff, please call today’s first witness,” Judge Marinovich said.

Anna stood with a shaky breath. “Your Honor,” she said, her voice steady, “I would like to remind you that these two are just children.”

The judge stared at her. “I know that.”

“These are children who have been traumatized, both by past events and this trial. With all due respect, Your Honor, they are just kids. There’s only so much they can take.”

“These children, as you say, are teenagers. They are both two years away from being legal adults. They are more than capable of controlling themselves.”

“But--”

“Ms. Hirsch, do you like having a law degree?”

Anna furrowed her brows, her expression unreadable. “Yes.”

“Then I suggest you use it,” Judge Marinovich said slowly, “before you no longer have the chance.”

Victor blanched. Now Anna was getting her career threatened? Because of him? His stomach turned uncomfortably, and Victor thought he might vomit.

Anna took another breath, though the tremor there was still audible to Victor. “Yes, Your Honor.” She opened today’s manila folder and sighed, schooling her face into what Victor had come to know as Lawyer Mode. “I call Emily Spier to the stand.”

Emily made her way up and was sworn in. Anna had her go over her experience with Victor and Benji, the initial meeting, everything she could remember Victor saying. She detailed the events of the two staying during break. She explained Victor’s deteriorating mental health since then, his lapses in judgement, his dissociation, his nightmares. She spoke about Victor’s pain with a clear voice, and some sort of detachment from her words. She never once looked over at either of them. Victor wished she would, so he could tell if she really cared about what she was talking about.

Victor was nothing. He was shaking in Benji’s arms, still crying as he watched Anna bring up receipts for Victor’s psychological help nine times a month. He watched as they tried to argue for him, but he didn’t care anymore. If Victor died today, it wouldn’t matter. It might just be a blessing. Victor was a mistake. That was obvious to everyone. That was even obvious to the judge.

Mr. Clark took over for Anna. 

“Miss Spier, is it?”

Emily nodded, the perfectly polite white suburban mom that Mr. Clark should, by all means, love getting the chance to question. Finally, someone who might not be quite as smug about putting him in his damn place. 

Victor, though, did not like the way Mr. Clark said her name, like she was an insignificant little girl. ‘Little Miss Spier.’

“Emily,” she corrected with a smile.

Mr. Clark smiled back, seemingly relieved. Finally, someone who was less obvious about hating his guts. “Alright, Emily, can you tell me how long you’ve known Victor Salazar?”

Emily shrugged, lips pursed into a frown. “Since a bit before the beating. Late March, early April, I can’t quite remember.”

“That’s alright, Emily,” he said with a gentle smile. This guy was seriously gross. “Ballpark, somewhere around March twentieth to April tenth?”

Emily nodded. “That sounds about right.”

Mr. Clark nodded. “Would you say that’s a decent amount of time to judge someone’s character?”

Emily observed him for a moment before saying, “Humans form an opinion on someone after the initial impression, and spend some time after either corroborating their first idea of that person or disputing it. All in all, the process, all completely subconscious, takes place over the course of just a few weeks. Probably less than a month, I’d say. So, that being said, I think just a few months is a decent amount of time to judge a person’s character.”

Mr. Clark seemed disappointed with this answer. “What, if you remember, was your initial impression of Victor Salazar?”

Emily finally looked over at Victor, and he felt every ounce of love and respect and care she had for him. Pink shone in the courtroom like a sunset over the waters, a glimpse of hope before the sun winked behind the ocean. 

“I thought he was a scared little boy who just needed someone to remind him he was worth loving.”

Victor felt her words like nineteen punches to the chest. Emily always saw good in him. She never saw anything but good. Victor hated disappointing her.

Mr. Clark nodded, his eyes squinted and trained on Emily. “And, over the course of time that you’ve known Victor Salazar, do you think, in your words, he corroborated that first idea or disputed it?”

Emily gazed at Victor, a small smile playing at her lips, her eyes welling with tears. “Both,” she finally said, “he did both.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Emily nodded and the first of the tears traced its premiere line down her cheek. “Victor was a scared little boy in his own eyes and in mine. And to me, he will always be that little boy that showed up on my doorstep with my son, crying his eyes out, screaming in Spanish that he wanted his mother.” She smiled at him, laughing at the bittersweet memory. “But we reminded him that he is worth loving. We reminded him he is worth all the love we could give him. And once we did… he grew into a miracle.” She sniffed and knuckled under her eyes, careful not to smear her waterproof makeup. “Victor was so scared. I didn’t think he’d make it honestly.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Clark asked quietly. No one dared disrupt her moment, the force of the motherly love she had, tethered to each person in this room.

“I thought he’d commit suicide,” she said with a sob. “I thought that the first moment I met him. I looked at him, and his eyes… his eyes were so empty. And he looked so tired and broken. He reminded me of an urn smashed on the ground that I saw when I was little. So, so hopeless and irreparable.” She squeezed her eyes shut, pinched her lips together, shaking the bad thoughts from her head. “But I held him. I held him when he was crying. My boy… he had so much life in him.” She opened her eyes, looking at Mr. Clark with such earnesty Victor could see even the shark was touched. The cold, simple, unintelligent shark had a heart after all. 

“I knew he wanted to live,” Emily whispered. “I knew he was a fighter.”

Mr. Clark carefully schooled his expression, readjusted his posture, cleared his throat. Deep breath in, deep breath out. “Emily,” he said softly, slowly, “did you ever think he could be capable of doing what he is being accused of?”

Emily shook her head. “No. I know Victor. And I know he would never hurt someone. Especially in that way. He’s a good person. And the way the whole thing has hurt him… you can’t lie about that. You can’t make it up.”

He examined her face before saying, “Do you think the trauma could be from the rejection?”

Emily scoffed. “Absolutely not. I think Victor would never in a million years ever consider hurting someone. Why do you think Armando Salazar never had a scratch? Why do you think he doesn’t hit back once in that video? Because Victor doesn’t hit back. He doesn’t hurt people. And you don’t get nightmares and PTSD attacks from being rejected.”

Mr. Clark clenched his jaw. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Judge Marinovich nodded and looked at Anna as Mr. Clark sat down. 

“Ms. Hirsh, your second witness?”

Anna nodded and stood. “I call Simon Spier to the stand.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw Simon give a quick kiss to Bram before making his way forward. He was sworn in, and Anna got started. She went through roughly the same questions as she’d asked Emily, how long they’d known each other and what he remembered from that day and everything after. She asked for Simon to judge Victor’s character. 

“He’s a caring kid. He’s selfless to a fault. He’s just an all-around really good guy. I love him like he’s my little brother. We all do.”

She asked him about what he knew about Armando, and they put up screenshots of Victor’s messages with Simon talking about something homophobic he said or did. There were quite a few. Anna spent time on each screenshot proving they were real and untouched. 

After she finished, Mr. Clark stepped up to take a stab at another foolish attempt at proving Armando Salazar innocent. 

“Mr. Spier,” he started as he paced, “are you straight?”

Simon stared at him. “No, sir.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With who?”

“Whom.”

Mr. Clark stopped pacing and directly a scornful eye at Simon. “What?”

“Whom,” Simon corrected. “Not who, whom. My boyfriend, Bram, taught me that.”

Victor thought he might have seen Mr. Clark’s eye twitch, but he schooled his face and continued. “Mr. Spier, what race is your boyfriend?”

Simon furrowed his brows. Everyone at the plaintiff’s table exchanged an uncomfortable glance. 

“Uh, black?” Simon said. “Mixed, technically.”

Mr. Clark nodded and resumed his pacing. “Would you say you have a preference for people of color?”

“I have a  _ preference _ for my  _ boyfriend _ .”

“A person of color, yes?”

Simon scoffed. “Yeah, but I fell in love with him long before I knew what he looked like.”

“So you found him via the Internet, just as you had with Victor?”

Simon was shooting daggers at the defense lawyer with the intensity of his glare. “It’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me.”

Simon shook his head. “Yeah, I see no way this relates to the case.”

Mr. Clark stopped pacing again, and looked at Simon with a tiny smirk. Victor hated that expression with his whole being. “Mr. Spier, I understand Victor Salazar visited you in New York a few months back, correct?”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, he came up for the weekend.”

“And did you two have any… sexual relations while he was there?”

Simon’s jaw dropped. “Absolutely not! He’s sixteen, first of all, and I am in a happy relationship with my boyfriend of two years.”

“These were the only things stopping you, Mr. Spier?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Well, that and I don’t want to fuck every man I see!”

“Mr. Spier,” Judge Marinovich cut in sharply, “please be civil. I do not tolerate profanity in my court.”

Simon huffed. “I am not sexually attracted to Victor. I am not really sexually attracted to anyone but my boyfriend. And I love my boyfriend with all my heart. I would never do that to him. Not to mention, but Victor feels like my little brother. I know maybe you might not see anything wrong with that, but I don’t like the idea of having sex with family.”

Benji snorted, and there was a wave of laughter through the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel, shouting for order. Victor didn’t laugh. He could feel the impending doom over Simon’s and his own heads. He could feel the backlash of Simon’s words like a nightmare, the phantom father standing behind him, the weakness in his knees proving itself in its aid to the darkness, to helping Victor succumb to the dark forces over his shoulder.

“Mr. Spier,” Judge Marinovich forced out, “you and almost every single witness and testimony have in some way, shape, or form degraded the defense attorney. You will all act civil until the end of this case! Or I will not hesitate to rule you guilty for contempt!”

Simon stared at the ledge in front of him, his jaw working as he thought. “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Good.” Judge Marinovich sat back and gestured to Mr. Clark. “You may continue, defense.”

Mr. Clark nodded, a sly smile on his face which he was trying desperately, and very much failing, to hide. “Thank you, Your Honor.

“Mr. Spier, I understand you have known Victor Salazar since before this whole ordeal, yes?”

“Yessir.”

“And would you say you’ve known him well enough to judge his mental illness beforehand and whether this made a toll?”

Simon shrugged. “I think so.”

Mr. Clark nodded. “Did you notice a difference between before and after the ordeal?”

“Yessir.”

“What kind of difference?”

Simon thought for a moment before saying, “He got distant. Physically and emotionally. He completely cut us off. He used to be a bit playful, writing jokes or sending us memes, but after everything that happened he just… didn’t text. And then after we got in touch again… he was constantly quiet and jumpy. He was always apologizing, and he was always walking on eggshells. And after the next assault? He was really quiet. He used to be really loud and happy and excited. He used to be… hopeful. After he was just… really quiet.”

Mr. Clark nodded. “Are you sure that couldn’t just be about the rejection?”

Simon rolled his eyes. “Victor Salazar was not simply rejected and then assaulted in self defense. And even if he was--which he wasn’t--then he wouldn’t have had the mental deterioration that he did. I am studying psychology at NYU, and I know that no one would be that affected by a rejection, especially not a queer person of color. He was assaulted. One of these things happens to people all the time, the other thing happens rarely, but when it does, almost always causes some trauma. Victor doesn’t have nightmares about his father rejecting advances. Victor has nightmares about him father murdering him on the sidewalk. Victor has PTSD attacks about his father murdering him on the sidewalk. Victor has panic attacks because his father. Tried to murder him. On the sidewalk. Tell me that sounds less plausible than him having therapy and psychiatrist visits to deal with rejection.”

Mr. Clark stared at Simon for a moment, his face blank. He blinked once, twice, three times, then turned to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls give me some comments we are so close to the finish line here!!!!


	40. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End is nigh
> 
> ***
> 
> It's time to get y'all hyped about Fic #2!
> 
> Fireworks in the Heart of Georgia
> 
> "Victor just moved to Georgia, and all he wanted to do was live his life in the closet until he could go to college, where he could be out and proud and whoever the hell he wanted to be. Fate, however, in the form of Benji Campbell, seemed to have other plans. 
> 
> Or: AU where everything is exactly the same except Victor and Mia don’t date."
> 
> I'm looking forward to it! Stay tuned!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we go
> 
> two more chapters to get done! I smell a cathartic ending nearby!!!!

Benji led Victor out of the courtroom with one hand on his back, their friends flanking the two like the Secret Service flocking around the president. They all knew what was on the other side of the courthouse doors.

Over the last few days, the public had gone into an uproar since the original post from the New York Times. Everyone had an opinion on Victor Salazar’s trauma. He hated it.

They slowed as they approached the big wood doors. No one wanted to go outside, hounded by reporters and protesters and people who thought they had a say in whether Armando Salazar was found guilty even though they weren’t even on the jury. 

Victor took a deep breath. He would have to go sooner or later. 

“Victor!” A deep voice called. Victor flinched and Benji craned his neck to see over the wall of purple, green, and pink that had tightened around them.

Someone went right to the front, where the basketball team was shielding Victor from view.

“Let me through,” the voice said. Victor recognized it, but he couldn’t figure out where from. 

Andrew laughed. “No.”

“I want to see my son!”

“Victor is not your son.” Andrew retorted. The man stepped forward and the basketball team moved to shield Victor better. “Stay away from him,” Andrew said.

“Victor and  _ Benji _ !” The man shouted. “Benji is my son!”

Victor glanced down at Benji, who seemed nonplussed. Andrew turned around to look at him, too, brow raised with an unspoken question.

Benji sighed, resigned. “Yeah, that’s my dad.” He put his hands together, then moved them away from each other. “Make like the red sea.”

Andrew sighed, too, and made some vague gesture to the basketball team. They each fell away, but stayed close, like they were waiting for Mr. Campbell to upset Victor so they could pounce.

“Dad, what do you want?” Benji asked, moving so he was positioned in front of Victor, a solid gold shield that Victor would do anything to keep safe.

“I want to talk to Victor!” He shouted, making Victor flinch. “Move, Benjamin!”

Benji just angled himself so he was covering more of Victor while everyone else closed in. Mia and Lake each grabbed one of Felix’s hands while everyone behind them were making minute shifts so Victor would be able to run if he needed. 

No one fucked with Victor Salazar and got away with it anymore.

“No, Dad,” Benji said tiredly, “he’s had a rough day, you aren’t going to make it worse.”

“I don’t want to make it worse!” Mr. Campbell pleaded with his son. Victor noticed as he watched them that Benji was taller than his father. “I want to apologize.”

Everyone exchanged a look, one with another, over and over again, until they all looked at Victor, then back at Mr. Campbell.

“That’s up to Victor,” Benji finally said, then looked at Victor with concern. Everyone else kept glaring daggers at Benji’s father. “You don’t have to, Vic.”

Victor looked at everyone, then at Benji’s father. He was looking at Victor, not with anger, but with earnestness. He seemed truly remorseful. 

Victor nodded, protected by his tight wall of purple and gold and green and pink. “Okay. But let’s move away from the door.”

Everyone led the three in the middle to a bench, where Victor and Mr. Campbell sat down. Benji stood at Victor’s side, ready to pounce on his own father if Victor so much as breathed wrong. 

“Make it quick,” Andrew said, “he doesn’t need more of this.”

Mr. Campbell huffed. “You know, son, Victor can take care of himself.”

“Dad--”

“But right now, Mr. Campbell,” Andrew said calmly, “he shouldn’t have to. And he doesn’t have to. He needs someone else to take care of him. And we are all happy to take the job.”

Mr. Campbell looked at Victor, and he studied him for a moment. He must have seen it there, the exhaustion in his face, in the bags under his eyes, the not-so-subtle downturn of the corners of his mouth, the bloodshot whites of his eyes, the scar on his cheek. Maybe he saw the desperation, the anger, the sadness, the depression in Victor’s face, because his own face softened as he looked at him. “You’re right,” he said without looking away, “he deserves you all very much.”

Victor stared at him. To say he was shocked might have been an understatement. He never thought he would hear Benji’s father ever doing anything in support of him, and given the way Benji gasped, Victor suspected he was just as surprised, to say the least.

“Victor,” Mr. Campbell started when no one spoke, “I want to apologize.”

When it was clear Mr. Campbell wouldn’t go on, Victor nodded, prompting him to continue.

“Right, well…” He sighed. “When Benji told us he was gay, I was sure he’d never find something like his mother and I have. I was sure we’d never have the grandkids my wife and I always wanted. I thought my family was over.” He stared off, lips parted, eyes squinting at the far wall like it’d give him an answer he desperately needed. “When I saw how happy he was with you, I was shocked, to say the least. It didn’t make sense. But over time, I realized he’s still my son. And he’s still the son I raised and the son I held when he broke his arm when he was little. He was still the son who sat with me for hours and watched me play guitar. He begged me for lessons. He was still the son I went on road trips with. He’s still my son.” He turned to Victor with a dark look. “And I don’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

Victor’s chest twisted uncomfortably as he stared at Benjii’s father. He hurt Benji. That’s what his dad was saying. He hurt Benji. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mr. Campbell shook his head. “When Benji came home with a black eye and told me everything… I hated you. I thought you couldn’t do anything but hurt him and make him suffer. I tried to forbid him from seeing you, but I knew that wouldn’t do anything. I just prepared him and myself as well as I could for the eventual pain you would cause.”

Victor glanced away, his eyes stinging. Mr. Campbell was right. He was bad for Benji. So, so bad. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Andrew said as Benji grabbed Victor’s hand and pulled him from the bench. 

“No,  _ wait _ !” Mr. Campbell called. “Please, let me finish.”

Victor turned to him, a film of tears over his vision as Benji tried to steer him away. “I’m so sorry, sir.” He said, swallowing a sob. “I never wanted to do that to him.”

“Just—“ Mr. Campbell sighed. “I’m trying to tell you I was wrong!”

Benji stopped in his tracks and turned around. “Come again?”

Mr. Campbell let out a defeated sigh. He said slowly, “I am trying to tell you that I was wrong.”

Benji shifted so he was in front of Victor, ready at any moment to grab him and run. “We’re listening. Maybe.”

Mr. Campbell nodded. “Benji, Victor… I thought that, given everything, you would be wrong for my son. But you’re not.” He took a step closer to Victor. “I am really sorry, Victor. You’ve gone through a lot, but you’re good for my son.”

Victor bit his lip, fighting off more tears. “I-- um, thank you, Mr. Campbell.”

Mr. Campbell squeezed Victor’s arm and gave him a somewhat strained smile. “I still don’t love it, but you two are good together. Seeing the way you two stand up for each other… you’re good.” He sighed and dropped his hand to his side. “I want you both to be happy. It’s what you deserve, after all this.”

Victor tried his best to blink back more tears, but one slipped down his cheek. He swiped at it hastily, sniffing, doing his best to compose himself. “Thank you.”

Mr. Campbell nodded at Victor and patted Benji on the arm, and walked away.

Benji turned to the doors and sighed. “We should talk about that later.”

Victor nodded, even if he knew what came next. “Home?”

Benji nodded, too. “Yeah. Home.”

Everyone formed around them, a tight wall of color, of love draped in black cloth and tear-soaked faces. Impenetrable, even by flashing white lights and screaming reporters. Or, so Victor hoped.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

And when that unstoppable force screamed, the immovable object stayed silent. 

And when that unstoppable force shoved, the immovable object stood tall. 

And when that unstoppable force climbed, the immovable object pushed them down. 

They made it through the reporters, through the protesters, to the cars. Victor, Felix, Benji, and Andrew shoved into Simon’s car. Everyone had arranged carpooling the day after they’d found the article, after they were swarmed by reporters and protesters after leaving the courthouse. They arranged it so the New York crew each were driving their own car, along with Emily, Jack, and Isabel. Victor was just glad he didn’t have to drive after court everyday.

Benji held his hand as they drove off, the crowds flocking after the cars pulling out one after the other like the goddamn Secret Service following pursuit of their charge. Victor supposed that meant he was on the level of a president in his friends’ eyes. Oh, how he hated that train of thought. 

Victor lay his head on Benji’s shoulder, thinking about Adrian tucked tight into Kieran’s lap in his mom’s car. They’d decided a basketball player’s arms were much safer than Pilar’s.

Victor wished he could see Adrian, but given how emotional everyone was, they’d all thought it was best to let Adrian process this on his own. But, even so, Victor missed his little brother. It might have been selfish, but Victor wished he could hold him instead of some random guy on the basketball team.

Benji stroked his fingers through Victor’s hair, scratching his nails gingerly over his scalp, and hummed a soft melody into the quiet air of the car. Victor recognized it immediately, and despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile.

Call Me Maybe. Benji remembered their song.

***

Victor and Benji sat in silence, eating their lunches as slowly as possible, as if it could hold off the doom that was awaiting them at the courthouse.

Today was their six month anniversary. And today was the day the jury would decide if Armando Salazar was innocent or guilty. 

Damn, how Victor missed the night of their first, well, second kiss. Their first real kiss. Their first ‘I want you, too’ kiss. Or even before, when his biggest problem was how to be a good boyfriend to Mia, how to love her like she deserved. 

Now, he worried about being a good boyfriend to Benji, while also worrying about nightmares, and people believing he was guilty of sexual harassment and threats, and his deteriorating mental health, and his family, and his father, and  _ everything. _

But right now, Victor could at least try to enjoy their six month anniversary breakfast, just small breakfast sandwiches at Brasstown, where they began. Victor missed the days of dancing after closing and secret looks from across the room and splashing steamed milk all over the both of them. Victor missed the days that they were falling in love and nothing else was as important. 

Now, they were very much in love, and everything else was important. 

Benji brushed his knuckles against Victor’s, a small display of love, a bit of shining gold amongst the lackluster mahogany and ominous grey and dull, lifeless colors of everything else in the world, a bit of optimism among the impending darkness of noon. 

“You know whatever happens, we’ll be okay, right?” Benji asked softly.

Victor nodded, though it was obvious to both of them that he didn’t believe it.

“Benji…” Victor’s breath caught in his throat and he dropped his gaze to the table between them, his sandwich with one tiny bite taken from the corner. “What if they think he’s innocent?”

Benji shook his head. “That’s impossible. Look at everything we’ve presented. The only way he’s found innocent is if the jury is made up of twelve homophobes. And even then we can appeal further, because I can tell even the judge knows the two of them are lying.” He reached out, tucking his forefinger underneath Victor’s chin and raising his head so their gazes could meet. “Victor, trust me. They’ll find him guilty. They’ll put him away. I know it.”

Victor nodded again, though this time he did his best to convince himself of Benji’s truth. “Right. Okay.” He let out a deep breath and ran his sweaty palms over his slacks, nodding to himself as if the movement would convince him. “Right.”

Benji moved his hand so he was cupping Victor’s cheek, a private smile on his face, just as a shadow fell over their table. The two looked up at once, and Benji’s hand retreated quickly as he glared up at the intruder. “What do you want, Derek?”

Derek held up his hands. “Relax, Ben, I--”

“Don’t call me that.” Benji interrupted. “You know I hated it when you called me that, and you always knew that. So don’t call me that.”

Derek nodded. Victor stared at him, eyes welling with tears, his hands shaking, sweat prickling on his palms again and behind his knees and good God, Victor Salazar could never catch a break.

“Look, I’m sorry, Benji.” Derek said softly. He took a chair out and sat down with them. “I’m sorry.”

“No one said you could sit with us,” Benji shot back, grabbing Victor’s chair and dragging it closer to him. “You need to leave, and stay the fuck away from my boyfriend. It’s not happening, Derek, so get over it.”

Derek looked at him sadly. “Did you delete the photo album?”

Benji nodded. “I did.”

Derek nodded, too. “Benji, Victor, I just…” He sighed. “I just want to tell you both that I’m sorry. About what I said.”

They both stared at him, shocked. 

“You’re… sorry?” Benji asked. 

Derek nodded again. “I am. I’m sorry.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that.” Benji said, clearly just as shocked as Victor. “Go on.”

Derek sighed. “I saw the article about the trial. I read it. I didn’t know that happened to you guys.”

“And yet you still go around making accusations towards people you don’t even know.” Benji said, crossing his arms. Derek gave him a look, and Benji just shrugged. “I’m not going to make this easy for you.”

Derek bit his lip, nodding sadly. “I suppose I deserve that. But, Benji… I love you. I think I always will. But I get it now. We weren’t right for each other. You’re happy. I can see it every time I look at you. You look happy. Even with all of this. You look happier than I ever saw you when we were together.”

Benji stared at him, and Victor looked between them both. Was that the truth? Was Benji really happier with Victor than Derek?

Derek turned to Victor. “I, um… I’m really sorry about what I said to you, too. You’re not unlovable. You’re not less than anyone. You’re not part of a person. You deserve better than what I said. You deserve better than what you’ve gotten.” He nodded, looking back at Benji. “I guess whatever hell-father there is up there decided to give you someone to start with.”

Benji smiled softly, his eyes sad. “Thank you, Derek.”

Derek nodded and stood. “I’d like us all to be happy now. Whether I ever see you again, I will move on. And I want you both to be happy. Because you deserve that.” 

Benji gave him another sad smile, this one more remorseful than anything. “I’d like that, too, Derek. Thank you for your apology.”

Victor nodded with him, mum. 

“I, uh, I’ll go now. Good luck. I hope he gets jail time.”

Benji nodded confidently at both him and Victor, threading their fingers together. “He will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls leave love in the comments


	41. Written in Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision must be made

“Does the defense have anything to say before the jury goes into deliberation?”

Armando was silently tearing up before saying, “I love my son. I always have. And I always will. Despite what he did to me. He’s my son. And I forgive him.”

It looked like Judge Marinovich was struggling not to roll his eyes. “And does the plaintiff have anything to say before the jury goes into deliberation?”

Anna, Isabel, Benji, and Victor exchanged a look. Victor shook his head. Benji looked at each of the jury members and said, “You all know the truth. Your decision will reflect that.”

***

Everyone sat in silence in the hallway, waiting. Every so often, someone tried to make light conversation, or ask what they thought might be taking so long, but it easily fizzled out back into the same quiet they’d had for hours now. Victor scrolled through Instagram, then TikTok, back and forth, though he didn’t really absorb anything he saw. He tapped a heart on every post, but he wasn’t sure if it was anything he would actually like to see. He wasn’t sure if he cared about it. He wasn’t even sure if the posts had words, or people, or music, or dogs. He stared at his phone, but ignored the screen.

Benji had, at first, held Victor’s hand as he read something online. Victor wasn’t sure if it was an article or what, but after a while he went to a music app and looked through available music, tapping out rhythms and humming melodies under his breath. It was around this time he’d pulled his hand away to type something, and they hadn’t touched since. Now, he just stared into space, his head back against the wall, tuned out of the world around him. Oh, how Victor wished he were him right then.

Adrian had fallen asleep across Isabel’s and Emily’s laps. Simon fell asleep in Bram’s lap. Mia sat between Andrew’s legs, her head asleep on his shoulder. Lake and Felix sat away from the group, talking quietly. Justin, Ivy, and Kim all sat in a tiny huddle scrolling on their phones, sometimes showing each other something. The basketball team, other than Victor, seemed to be playing something on their phones together. Victor wasn’t sure what it was, nor did he care. 

Everyone was silent, in their own worlds, waiting for the waiting to end.

***

There was one spokeswoman for the jury. She had dark skin, and was wearing a grey pencil skirt and blazer over a white blouse. Her dreads were pulled back into a ponytail. Her face was expressionless.

Victor stared at her, and she stared at the judge, and he stared back. 

There was so much apprehension in all of their faces, in everyone. It seemed the whole courtroom was holding their breath.

_ The only way Armando will be found innocent is if the jury is made up of twelve homophobes. _

Seemed quite likely, now that Victor thought about it. Or even ten. Or eight. Or seven.

It just had to be more than half.

“Your Honor,” the woman spoke. She had a deep voice, a voice which echoed in the hush of the courtroom, a voice which foreshadowed the bearing of news. Victor couldn’t be sure if it was good or bad. The dread pooling inside of him was telling him it was terrible.

If Armando was found innocent, would Victor and Benji go to jail? Would this mean they would be found guilty of attempted sexual assault, or  _ something _ ? Would that mean Armando won twice?

“We have come to a decision.”

“And what is your verdict, ma’am?”

Would Victor be sent to prison? Would there be another trial? Would they be tried as children or adults?

“The people of the jury,” she started. Her voice boomed in Victor’s ears, even over the rush of his pulse in his eardrums, even over the feeling of cotton stuffed in his ears. The woman pursed her lips. “The people of the jury find Armando Salazar guilty on two accounts of assault and one of attempted murder.”

Isabel burst into tears. The courtroom heaved one large exhale. 

Victor kept holding his breath. The other shoe would drop. 

He kept staring at the woman, who looked over at him and smiled.

There was a wetness on his cheeks. Benji was laughing beside him among the din of everyone’s relief.

Victor was waiting. The other shoe would drop.

“Order!” Judge Marinovich shouted, banging his gavel. “Order in the court!”

Victor’s lungs hurt. Something would happen. 

“I can finally say this,” Judge Marinovich said, sounding relieved, “Armando Salazar, you are found guilty of two accounts of assault and one account of murder, and are being sentenced to ten years in prison for one assault, ten years in prison for a second assault, and another twenty years for attempted murder, and a three-hundred-thousand dollar fine paid to the Salazars and Campbells for both assaults and murder.”

Victor waited, even as the world celebrated around him. This was a dream. No one would be safe. Armando must have been found innocent. Victor was in danger.

“Does the victim have anything to say to the criminal before he is taken into custody for good?” Judge Marinovich asked.

Victor blinked, coming back into himself. Armando and Mr. Clark sat there, staring at him. The courtroom went quiet again. 

Benji shook his head. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

Victor looked between Benji and the judge, then Anna, then Armando. 

“You raised me. You loved me for a long time. I was so scared I’d never amount to anything more than you.” Victor took a shaky breath. “But I will. I already have.” He nodded to himself, to Armando, to everyone in this courtroom and the ones watching on the cameras. “I am stronger than you. And Dad? I love boys. Specifically, I love one boy a whole lot. And hard as you may try, you can never take that from me. You can never take my family from me.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he sobbed. He didn’t fight it anymore. Everything that’s hurt him, everything that’s been eating at him, it’s gone now. Victor could be at peace now. He could be free of the pain and the hurt that his father had caused him, he could be free of the fear he’d held onto. He could cry and look his father in the face. Because the world believed him. And he was never going to see him again. He was cuffed, his hands useless to him, surrounded by security. He wouldn’t hurt Victor anymore. “You know, I tried to be the son you wanted me to be, but I never could’ve been that person. But that’s okay. And it’s okay that I’ll never see you again. I think we’re both better off. And maybe someday you’ll find the love in your heart to accept me as I am. But it won’t matter if you don’t. I have a family now, and it doesn’t include you. I’m stronger than you. And I always will be.” He sniffed, reaching for Benji’s hand. “I forgive you. I’ll let go of you now, and I’ll move on with my family. Goodbye, Papi. Enjoy prison.”

The judge nodded to the security, who hauled Armando off out a different door. 

Judge Marinovich slammed his gavel one last time. “Court is adjourned.”

Victor watched the door close, watched this hell finally end. And the gate opened, and he let it go. He burst into tears, sobbing so hard he couldn’t breathe, his shoulders shaking with the force of it, his body splitting with his emotion.

It was done. It was gone. 

Victor was done. He could rest.

Benji held Victor tight to his chest, rocking him back and forth, crying into his hair. “It’s over,” he kept saying. “It’s all over. You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

Victor lifted his head. Everyone was celebrating. Anna and Isabel were hugging. Isabel was crying on her shoulder, speaking rapid Spanish as she clung to the woman. Jack was holding Emily and Nora tight to his chest as they cried and he held back tears. The basketball team was comforting a crying Pilar and a confused Adrian. The whole New York crew was in a massive hug with all of Victor’s friends from Creekwood. They were all crying. Victor pulled Benji by the hand and forced their way into the hug. All of them screamed when they saw the two and pushed them to the center. Victor cried so incredibly hard. 

Armando was gone. He was in prison. He would never hurt him again. 

He was never going to hurt him again. 

Victor Salazar was free.

They all were. 

And they all cried to their hearts’ content. 

Victor Salazar was surrounded by colors, surrounded by gold and green, pink and purple and blue and orange, and a big red bursting inside him like a firework. 

Victor Salazar was a firework. And he was free.

He was lighting up the sky with his love, with his freedom.

Armando was gone.

Victor was free, and he was so very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls leave comments pls? 🥺🥺 Uwu
> 
> So excited to start the next fic!!


	42. Epilogue: The Colors of Victor Salazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February, 2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And on a final note......

**Dear Simon,**

**Okay, so maybe I did have trouble sleeping last night. But that’s only because I was worried about my chemistry test. It has been two weeks since my last nightmare *knock on wood* and today is my birthday, so I hope it goes smoothly.**

**Re: the present: I know you said you sent it, but no I have not gotten it yet. I’ll let you know when I do though!**

**I can’t believe I’m 17. I can’t believe how crazy this year has been.**

**You guys are the best. I hope NYC is treating you all well! Can’t wait to go back! My mom said that this summer as long as my mental health is good and my attacks are staying less frequent I can come visit you guys for a week or two, and Benji’s parents said if I’m going he’s going. I’m so excited. I miss you guys like crazy.**

**And yes, everyone is doing fine. Since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be indebted to us for literally forever, which I’m still not quite sure how this one works since we’re his family… but the gov’t has assured us we can relax and we will get our money. Idk how that will work, and I do not trust the government in the least, but Mom has taken that to mean we don’t need to worry about money, but in case we do, we should keep our jobs.**

**Anyway, my family is throwing me a small party, so I guess I should head out. I just wanted to thank you all for the bday wishes and let you guys know I’m doing better and the update on an NY trip.**

**< 3**

**Victor**

There was a quick knock, Benji’s signature one-and-a-two on Victor’s bedroom door. Victor couldn’t help but smile. Benji was out getting God knew what, and damn if Victor didn’t miss him for the hour he was gone.

So Victor had gotten a bit more clingy. Sue him. He was allowed to be happy. Especially on his birthday when his boyfriend had already promised he wouldn’t leave his side from eight a.m. until midnight. And he’d already violated that promise. Rude.

He opened the door, and couldn’t help but get a little more excited when he saw Benji’s smiling face. He’d let his hair grow out a bit since he knew how much Victor liked his longer hair, and it was just past his cheekbones now. Victor was caught off-guard for a moment by _just how much_ he loved this boy.

“Hey, birthday boy,” Benji said, leaning in for a kiss. 

Victor leaned back, a teasing smile on his face. “What gives? You left for an hour when you promised you wouldn’t.”

Benji rolled his eyes, though it was fond. “Oh, you won’t mind once you see what I’ve got for you.”

Victor raised his brow, fighting off another smile. “I don’t think so, but you can try.”

Benji shook his head and took Victor’s hand, leading him out of his room, then stopped and turned to Victor. “Close your eyes.”

“Is this an excuse so you can kiss me?” Victor asked, but he closed his eyes anyway. Six months ago, he would’ve been terrified. Hell, two months ago he would’ve been terrified. Surprises were not something he really liked anymore. But he trusted Benji with his whole heart. And if something went wrong, the whole basketball team was out there for them.

Benji snickered. “Do you want it to be an excuse to kiss you?”

Victor shrugged. “Maybe.”

A second later, Benji brushed his lips against Victor’s cheek. “Happy?”

Victor pouted. “What? Cheek?”

Benji laughed, a sound so bright and beautiful Victor could feel the gold in him, more and more alive everyday. “I have something planned later, jackass, now come on. I’ll guide you.”

Victor sighed. “You’re making me anxious.”

This was something he’d been working on in therapy. Clear communication. Making sure people knew if he didn’t like something. 

“Baby, I promise you’ll be happy. I swear it.” Benji squeezed his hands three times, and Victor squeezed back. “If you really don’t want to do it like this, we don’t have to. It’s all up to you. It’s exciting either way.”

Victor chewed his lip. He trusted Benji. And everything was always good. Benji wouldn’t hurt him. “Guide me.”

Benji pecked him on the cheek again, then started moving slowly. Victor took a deep breath, kept his eyes closed, allowed himself to trust. Benji loved him. This was what he always knew. He loved Benji. 

“Okay,” Benji said, pulling his hands away. “Open your eyes.”

Victor released a breath and opened his eyes. He couldn’t contain his smile, and he didn’t even try, beaming out at the sea of faces in front of him.

“Surprise!” Simon shouted, his face taken up by his own huge grin.

Victor flung himself at the group and was immediately enveloped in a six-person hug. God, he’d missed them. 

“Happy birthday, Victor,” Ivy said, her voice muffled as her mouth was against Bram’s shoulder.

“Yes, baby!” Kim shouted, and Justin whooped. “Happy birthday, sis!”

Victor looked around at their faces, their five beautiful faces. He looked at Simon and wrinkled his nose. “You need to shave.”

Everyone burst into laughter and Simon gaped at him. 

“That’s what we’ve been telling him!” Ivy shouted, their eyes bugging out.

“Bram likes it!” Simon said. “Right, Bram?”

Bram pursed his lips. “I, uh…” He glanced around the room. “I love you?”

Simon’s jaw dropped as Victor tried not to laugh. “You don’t like it, either?”

Bram put up his hands, his brows raised in defense. “Hey, I don’t mind the look. What I have a problem with is beard burn in awkward places.”

Andrew snickered and Adrian looked up at Isabel. “Mommy, what’s that mean?”

Isabel looked at Emily, who panicked and said, “He means… kissing! Adrian, he means kissing.”

“No, I do not--”

“Hush!”

Victor bust out laughing, and Bram tackled him in another hug. “Fuck, Vic, we missed you!”

Victor couldn’t stop smiling. His friends were here. His family was here. 

Pilar put on a music playlist, and a few people started dancing. Victor hung at the edge, watching his boyfriend dancing with Simon and Adrian. Pilar stood at Victor’s side, watching a new basketball player dancing tentatively with Kieran, Andrew, and Mia. 

“Got your eye on something?” Victor asked her over the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest, but it was halfhearted at best.

“You don’t know anything, hermano!”

Victor smiled, delighted. “He’s a good guy!” He told her. “You should go talk to him!” 

She shook her head. “Absolutely not!”

He laughed and pushed her forward. “Go! Word on the street is he likes you, too!”

She glared at Victor, but shyly made her way over to the boy. A sophomore, Victor knew. He was really nice, and he was into the same music as Pilar. He would be good for her. 

Victor watched as she danced awkwardly with the group until the kid pulled her forward and spun her around, getting more into it. They started dancing together, laughing. It was kind of adorable.

Nora sidled up to Victor, sipping from a Coke can. Her nails, today, were painted pink. “You good, Vic?”

He nodded and gestured vaguely to Benji, who was currently doing some awful dance with Adrian while Simon laughed at them and joined in. “I like watching him,” he told her. 

She watched them for a moment, then laughed. “What a couple of dorks.”

Victor nodded, delighted. “They’re my dorks!”

She shook her head at him, laughing. “You should go dance with him!”

Victor looked at her, then at Benji, who caught his eye and gave him a beatific smile. Victor nodded and put down his drink. He kissed Nora on the cheek, then ran to Benji, who grabbed his hand and spun him the second he could. Victor couldn’t resist the giddy laugh bubbling in his throat, and he realized there was no reason to, so he let it go. Benji laughed, too, and pulled him forward for a quick kiss. Victor squeezed his hand three times, and Benji squeezed back, and the world went up in gold.

Felix tackled Victor, shouting the words to the song, and the world went up in green.

Victor caught Pilar dancing with the basketball player, her smile bright, and Adrian grabbed his and Benji’s hands to dance, and the world went up in blue.

Bram tacked himself onto Simon’s back, spinning him so they could dance together, and Justin and Ivy and Kim followed suit and took his place, and the world went up in orange.

At one point, Mia and Lake passed by, both simultaneously giving him a kiss on the cheek, and the world went up in purple.

Emily came and gave Victor a hug before stepping out to pick up the cake, and the world went up in pink.

The song changed to Call Me Maybe, and Victor laughed, delighted, and grabbed Benji by the hands to dance. They spun and shook their asses, screaming to the song, pausing to kiss whenever there was a break. Everyone was screaming the words at the top of their lungs, and they were going to get so many noise complaints, but Victor didn’t care. The world was a rainbow of beauty, and he was right at the center. He was so very alive with love and happiness.

Benji kissed him as the song ended and the noise died down as the lights went off. For a moment, Victor panicked, then everyone started singing.

_Happy birthday to you_

The crowd parted way for Isabel and Emily to come through with the cake.

_Happy birthday to you_

There were so many smiles. The tiny flames on the candles shone bright. 

_Happy birthday to Victor_

Victor glanced at Benji, whose face glowed gold in the firelight. 

_Happy birthday to you_

Victor glanced around at everyone. Benji kissed his cheek, so gentle. 

“Make a wish, mi amor,” Isabel told him. 

Victor stared down at the candles. 

Last year, there was nothing he knew to wish for. He didn’t wish for anything last year. 

This year, he didn’t need to wish for anything. In this moment, he was so happy, so content, his mind drew a blank on what he could possibly need, what he could ever need to wish for. 

The wish from Kettlewick came to mind, the wish in red. 

_I, Victor Salazar, wish to be happy._

He drew in a breath, but stopped. His wish already came true. 

He glanced at everyone, all the families all pulled into one, all because of him. 

In one fell swoop, the candles went out with one quick blow, and when everyone burst into applause, the world went up in red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone so much for sticking with me!! You all have been amazing!!! Can you believe this is the first story I’ve ever finished?? I can’t believe I’ve finished it!!
> 
> Thank you so much Akila for being my best pal and helping me draft this and most importantly thank you AMOS for constantly being on my ass to write and update!!! You’ve been a huge help I don’t think I would’ve been able to finish this without you!!
> 
> You’ve all been amazing!! I’m so sad to see this come to an end, but so proud of how it went!! 
> 
> See you on Fireworks in the Heart of Georgia!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

**Author's Note:**

> As always, please validate me uwuwuwu


End file.
